


Where Memories Sleep

by doritoFace1q



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon, Amnesia, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Past, Flashbacks, Gen, Gender-Neutral Hange Zoë, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Has Feelings, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Needs a Hug, Levi's Past, Levi-centric (Shingeki no Kyojin), Mikasa Ackerman & Levi Are Related, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Past Violence, Rated for Levi's Language (Shingeki no Kyojin), Recovered Memories, Slave Trade, So many flashbacks, The Underground (Shingeki no Kyojin), Underground Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), humour because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16365404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doritoFace1q/pseuds/doritoFace1q
Summary: When Levi has to take on an undercover mission the MPs can't handle, he's thrown headlong into a mess of old enemies, painful memories, and a past that nobody was ever supposed to find out about; especially not his sorry excuse for a new squad.Damnit, Erwin.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Deep Under The Street](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323699) by [fenfyre (Jace)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace/pseuds/fenfyre). 



> So, I wrote an AoT fanfic, because why not. FYI this was NOT my original plan for the story, it was originally going to be something completely different, but I read another (dead) fic on AO3, and it inspired me to write something about Levi's past and the Underground.
> 
> Rated teen and up because Levi swears (of course he does)
> 
> Big gaps are for timeskips/scene changes because I can't figure out how to centre things on AO3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which abs are discussed at great length.

When Levi had been called out of babysitting his squad by a frantic messenger, telling him that ‘Commander Erwin needed to see him’ and that it was ‘urgent’, he had been expecting the Commander to be standing with his back to the door, fists clenched, or, maybe, sitting at his desk, frowning at whatever disturbing letter he’d received. Or showing some type of discomfort, at least.

What he hadn’t been expecting was for Erwin to be sitting at his desk (well, he’d gotten that part right), sipping a cup of coffee, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“From the way that kid was blabbing, I was expecting there to be some sort of emergency or some shit – I don’t appreciate being called from training to see what kind of books you read in your spare time.” Erwin chuckled as he folded a corner of the novel he’d been reading (Some sort of sappy romance, judging by the title: Love Amongst the Dragons. Yuck), awkwardly maneuvering the book with his single arm.

“Sit down,” he gestures at the wooden chair in front of his desk and reaches across the worn, messy surface of his workspace. Levi scowled, dusting off the top of one of the towering stacks of paperwork and chasing an ant off another.

“You couldn’t even bother to clean up the useless ones?” Levi picked up a sheaf of papers stamped with the seal of one of the old noble families – dull and void, now that Historia was in power and the fat old pig was enjoying some quality time with Zackly. He tossed it over his shoulder, hearing the satisfying thunk as it landed in the wastepaper basket as Erwin placed a glass in front of him. He cocked an eyebrow, looking down at the swirling amber liquid with a frown.

Shit.

“The expedition for next week’s been canceled,” Erwin said, taking a small sip of the whiskey. Levi leaned back in his seat, balancing on the back two legs as he propped his feet up on top of another stack of paperwork. It was already filthy, anyways.

“That’s it?” Levi scoffed, turning his head away from Erwin, glancing out the window. “I was expecting something a bit more pressing; that messenger kid said it was ‘urgent’.” He glared down into the courtyard, glaring down at the sorry excuses for soldiers that made up his squad as they lounged around, chatting casually. “So, can I leave now? I need to finish babysitting those brats.” Arlert glanced up, catching his cold glare, and frantically nudged Jaeger. The entire squad was sparring panickily not ten seconds later.

Erwin sighed. “Levi.” The tone in his voice caused him to frown, and he dropped his feet, chair landing on all fours.

“So, why’s it been canceled?” Levi asked as Erwin took another sip of the alcohol. “I thought Historia said we’d be getting all the funds she could spare.”

Erwin didn’t meet Levi’s eyes as he swirled his drink around. “She called me into the capital a few days ago,” he said, voice careful, each word measured. “Said she had something urgent to discuss.”

“Sounds familiar,” Levi grumbled, and made a motion for him to continue as Erwin shot him a steely look.

“MPs have been disappearing from off the streets. Garrison, too. Even a Scout, on his day off.” 

Levi frowned. “Shouldn’t this be the MP’s job? Why’s she talking to you about it?” 

“Because supplies have been disappearing, too,” Erwin tapped his finger on his desk. “And not just your standard thug snatching a cloak when the Interior Police aren’t looking – entire crates of 3DMG, blades, saddles, rifles, and whatnot have been vanishing.”

Levi placed his chin in his hand. “Again, shouldn’t this be the MP’s work?”

Erwin sighed, as if steeling himself. “There’ve been spikes in criminal activity lately. Especially in the Underground.”

The reason for this visit crashes down, knocking Levi unceremoniously on the head. “No,” he says, not giving Erwin the chance to say anything else.

“Levi –”

“No.”

“Levi,” Levi glares at the Commander before grabbing the tiny glass on the table and downing the whole thing in a single gulp. It’s only then that he realizes his hands are shaking.

Erwin clenched his hand, looking down at his fingers. “I don’t want to ask you to do this, but you’re the only person in the whole military who knows the Underground well enough –”

“Does it look like I care?” Levi spat, glaring down at the empty glass. Erwin sighs, filling it back up for him.

“Consider it something of a recon mission, then,” Erwin said. “You could go back, collect anything you left behind when you left –”

Levi lets out a cold bark of laughter. “I didn’t have anything to bring. You made sure of that,” Erwin cringes slightly under the shorter man’s icy glare as he tips back the glass again. “And, besides, anything I did have would have been looted or destroyed by time. It’s been almost ten years.” The last part was spoken softly, and the glass clinked on the wood of Erwin’s desk.

“Please, Levi,” Erwin didn’t beg. But the two words were the closest thing to a plea that had ever come out of his mouth. “Nobody else in the military knows the Underground like you do –”

“I’m not going back.”

Erwin didn’t look into Levi’s eyes. “I don’t want to order you, but I will if I have to.” Levi didn’t reply, and, only then, did Erwin look up. “Bring your squad. I know that they’ll hold you back in many ways,” he said, cutting Levi off before he could protest. “But they could help you, too. You were able to use their combined skillsets against the MPs.” He looked out the window at the group that were half-sparring and half-relaxing, glancing up occasionally at the window to make sure that Levi didn’t have his eyes on them. “Tell them at dinner,” Erwin said, looking back. “You leave tomorrow.”

Levi stood, the chair screeching on the cold stone floor. “Fine,” he snaps shortly, striding out the door, slamming it with a bang that could probably be heard all the way from Sina.

Erwin sighed.

 

“No, I swear!”

“Ah, lay off, Potato Girl!”

“Yeah, stop jerking our legs!”

“I’m not – argh!”

Sasha banged her forehead on the table, groaning.

“Will you shut up and listen!”

Jean sighed, putting his mug down with a thud. . . right on top of Sasha’s head. “Fine. Tell us about the commanding officers’ abs!”

Sasha glared up at him, sitting up, sending his mug flying, and grabbed a chunk of bread off his plate (“Hey!”) “So,” she said, shoving it in her mouth, gulping it down. “I heard some veterans talking while we were training.”

“When you were supposed to be training,” Jean grumbled, but Connie whacked him on the back of the head.

“Shut up, I want to hear this,” he said, turning back to Sasha. “The Commander?”

Sasha beamed as she shoveled beans into her mouth. “Six-pack.”

Connie whistled, and Jean shrugged. “Not surprised, considering his job. Wonder how he works out now that he’s only got one arm. . .”

“Okay, okay,” Connie leaned even closer. “Hange?”

Sasha shrugged, another chunk of bread produced seemingly from nowhere halfway down her throat. “None.”

“Don’t you guys have anything better to talk about?” Eren interrupted, shooting them a glare.

“Like what? Shoving our swords up titan asses?” Jean scoffed. “Not everybody’s a single-minded dope, ya know.”

“At least I don’t spend my time jerking off to the thought of my commander’s abs,” Eren challenged, and Jean snarled.

“You wanna go, titan breath?”

“Oh, real tough, barnyard brain!”

“That’s enough,” Mikasa snapped, grabbing both boys by their ears and forcing them back into their seats to the chuckles of the other soldiers in the hall. They’d long since grown use to the antics of the 104th, and the daily hijinks the Levi Squad pulled every meal were nothing short of commonplace in the Survey Corps.

“Fine,” Jean growled. Then, after a short silence, he burst out, “What about Captain Levi?” Mikasa sighs as Eren rolls his eyes, stabbing at a lone carrot on his plate, skillfully dragging it away as Sasha made a grab for it.

Armin glanced up. “Hey, guys –”

“I was hoping you’d ask!” Sasha beamed, and, despite their obvious disinterest, even Eren and Mikasa leaned in a bit as Sasha grinned conspiratorially. She leaned forwards and whispered, “Ten-pack!”

“Um, guys –”

“No way!” Jean cried, throwing his hands in the air, earning them a bemused glance from the Commander on the other side of the dining hall. “I mean, yeah, he’s strong and all –”

“No joke,” Connie muttered.

“But ten-pack?” Jean hissed, leaning in again. “He’s so tiny! Hell, even Armin’s taller than him! You sure he’s got enough room on him for that many?”

“Is a ten-pack even possible?” Eren asked.

“Duh! How else would he have one?”

“How do the veterans even know this?” Connie asked.

“Who knows? Maybe he’s making those nightly rounds, if you know what I’m saying –”

“Huh, I never thought of him as a ladies’ man –”

“Guys!” the four of them stopped talking and looked up to see Armin looking positively petrified, pointing to something behind them. They all turned to be hit with the full force of Levi’s death glare.

“Um, hi, Captain,” Sasha waved sheepishly as the rest of the Corps did a valiant job of ignoring the ensuing bloodbath. “How’re you doing?”

Levi’s eye twitched, and the entire group flinched back. “I’d appreciate it if you kept your discussion of my anatomical buildup to a minimum,” he growled, and was met with frantic nodding. He sighed, turning his head. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “Come with me, all of you. We need to talk.”

The younger soldiers exchanged confused glances as they stood, following him out into the empty front hall. He was leaned up against a wall in his standard fashion, glaring at the opposite wall as if it had just kicked his mother.

“Captain?” Eren asked tentatively, and Levi’ eyes turned towards his squad. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Make sure that all of you are by the stables tomorrow at the crack of dawn. Tell no one and come in civilian clothes. Bring your gear.”

“Captain?” Armin frowned. “Why would we –”

“We’re going to the capital,” Levi cut him off, and the soldiers exchanged surprised, confused glances. “Damned Military Police can’t be bothered to do their jobs right,” he growled as he continued glowering at the floor.

“Captain,” Mikasa said, the tiniest hints of sarcasm in her voice as she very nearly spat out his title. He glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised slightly. “If we’re going into the capital on military business, shouldn’t we wear our uniforms?”

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Consider it an undercover mission,” he said shortly. “No more arguments,” he added as she opened her mouth again. “Remember, tomorrow, stables, crack of dawn. We leave before the titans are able to move again.

“That’s all.”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hange is a troll and horse jokes are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a minor adjustment to the first chapter, saying that they're bringing their 3DMG. Just makes sense according to a new idea I had.

Eren awoke to the jingling of his cell door. He rolled over, covering his head with his pillow and groaned as the door was pushed open with a loud creak.

“Up and at ‘em, Eren!” Hange cried excitedly, bouncing up and down. Eren raised his head slightly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he stared at them.

“Hange?” he rubbed his eyes, sitting up with a yawn. “What’re you doing down here?”

“Levi sent me,” they explained, grinning as Eren’s eyes shot open, wide-awake and panicked. “You better hurry up,” they added as Eren flopped out of bed, scrambling around, grabbing his ‘civilian clothes’. “He seemed really pissed today.”

“Crap,” Eren grumbled as tried tugging his shirt on while cramming on a boot at the same time. “What time is it?”

“The sun’s not even up yet, but he’s already wide-awake and waiting. But, then again,” they tapped their chin thoughtfully as Eren, in his frantic distraction, tried putting his sock on over his boot.

“Oh, sweet Sina,” Eren groaned, rushing out the door. “Thanks, Hange! See you!”

“Wha? Hold on, I’m coming with you!”

“What?” Eren glanced over his shoulder at them as he raced through the castle. “I thought it was only our squa – oof!”

He crashed straight into a smaller figure, chin smashing painfully against a smooth, round surface. He fell to the ground, palms scraping against the floor.

“Ow,” Connie groaned, rubbing the top of his head. “Is your chin made out of titan crystal or something?”

“It could be,” Jean appeared in the doorway of the room Eren and Connie had collided in front of – theirs, apparently – tugging on a plain brown cloak and tossing a jacket at Connie. “The hell are you doing, Jaeger?”

“Going to the stables,” Eren snapped, standing up and brushing his pants off with his palms (already steaming as they healed his scratches).

“Huh,” Jean scoffed, buckling his coat around his neck. “Well, so are we.”

“Obviously.”

“What’s with the tone, smart-ass?”

“Why? Got a problem with it, horseface?”

“Boys,” Hange cut in before the fists could start flying. “Need I remind you that a very angry Captain is waiting for you at the stables, and his temper is getting shorter than himself with each passing second?”

They were out of the castle in less than a minute.

 

Levi’s eyes were closed as he leaned up against his horse, a large, regal black mare. He took a deep breath as a cool breeze blew over him, contrasting pleasantly with the heat from the animal behind him. His eye twitched as the frantic and – by now – familiar screaming of the 104th cadets penetrated the peace and quiet, and he opened his eyes, glaring at the group that were running up to him.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled as the soldiers leaned over, hands on their knees, panting. He surveyed them, eyes narrowed. They had followed Levi’s order to wear civilian clothes and not bring anything; well, except for Jaeger, who was still wearing his military boots, and Blouse, who had a large backpack that was probably filled to the brim with food, but he could let that slide.

“The hell are you doing here, shitty glasses?” he snarled at Hange, who grinned cheekily at him.

“Erwin sent me,” they rocked on the heels of their boots, beaming like a child (which, mentally, they were). “He thought you might need help getting on your horse.”

Levi’s eye twitched again as he scowled. “Fuck off.”

They ducked his swipe, running to their horse, cackling. Eren chuckled at the display, swinging himself up onto his own steed, a brown stallion affectionally dubbed Nipper, due to his habit of biting at everything he saw.

“Hey, look!” He raised his head as Connie laughed, pointing at Jean from atop his own steed. “Horseface’s on a horse!”

Jean scowled. “Shut up, baldy!”

“Enough,” Levi hoisted himself up onto his steed (with the aid of a nearby tree stump, but nobody needed to know that). “We’re going to be riding for most of the day, so unless you want to be dead on your feet by the time we’re in the capital, you’ll stop being idiots and conserve your energy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Levi glanced over to the side as Hange’s horse trotted up to him. “What the fuck, shitty glasses?”

“I wasn’t joking when I said Erwin told me to accompany you,” they said. “Someone’s going to need to bring your horses back, right?”

Eren raised his hand. “Does that mean you’ll be taking Jean, too?”

“Shut up!”

Levi’s horse nickered as he sighed, stroking her neck. “Idiots,” he growled. “Fine, but only until the capital,” he glowered at the scientist, who beamed, a crazy glint in their eyes.

“Yes, sir!”

Levi nudged the sides of his horse with his heels, and she reared, whinnying. “Follow me, and if I catch any of you doing anything but riding quietly, I’m gonna kick your asses into next month, got it?”

“Yes, sir!”

 

They made it an hour before the troops started getting restless.

“Hey, Sasha,” Connie called. “How long ‘till we get to the capital?”

“How should I know?”

“Okay.” Ten minutes later, he was talking to Eren. “Eren! Do you know when we’ll be at the capital?”

“Dunno.”

“Hmph. Jean –”

“No.”

“Yo, Armin, do you –”

“Sorry.”

“Mikasa –”

“No.”

“Captain!” Connie cried, and the entire squad flinched in anticipation for the forthcoming outburst. “When are we getting to the capital?”

“What part of quiet did you not understand, Springer?” Levi’s cold voice sent a chill down Connie’s spine and he clamped his mouth shut.

“Captain!” Levi growled as Blouse’s voice drifted past him. “Can we stop and take a break?”

“Yeah, Levi, let’s take a break!” Hange wheedled. Levi huffed, ignoring them. “C’mon, Levi, you can’t even stop for your best friend?”

“What the hell, four eyes?”

“Captain!” Connie called. “Are we there yet?”

“What?” Jaeger’s annoying voice rose above the rest, and it took all of Levi’s willpower not to scream in frustration. “The expedition was canceled?”

“How did you not know. . .”

“But I wanted to go kill titans!”

Levi gave the reins a sharp tug, and his horse slowed her gallop, as reluctant to stop as he was. “Fine,” he snapped. “We’ll stop and take a snack break or whatever it is you brats do when you’re not pretending to work, and then we keep going. One hour, and I expect the rest of the ride to be silent, got it?”

“Wahoo!” Connie tossed his arms out, falling backward and landing on his back in a mound of grass as his horse slowed.

“Ah, finally!” Sasha moaned, flopping face-first into the ground.

“Are you eating the flowers?”

Levi stretched, muscles flexing beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as he swung his arms, glancing over the horizon at the still far-off silhouette of Wall Sina. His eye twitched (for what felt like the umpteenth time that day) as a familiar smell of chemicals and never-before-washed hair pervaded his nostrils.

“Leee-vi.”

“Haaan-ge,” he replied in a mocking mimicry of their sing-song voice.

“Oh, very nice pitch!”

“What do you want, shitty glasses?” he asked leaning back against a tree.

“Is it wrong for somebody to want to greet one of their best buds?” Hange cooed as Levi ducked their unsuccessful attempt at giving him a hug.

“It is when we’re not fucking friends.”

“So mean,” they pouted, before leaning back against the tree next to him. “But, seriously, I do need to talk.”

“Be quick, shitty glasses.”

Hange’s eyes wandered to the 104th, watching as they joked around, relaxing casually on the ground. “Do they know where you’re going?”

“No.”

Hange frowned. “Do they know what you’re going to be doing?”

“Nope.”

They sighed. “Do they even know what the mission is?”

“No.” Hange raised an eyebrow, and Levi rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell them when we get there,” he leaned his head back against the tree trunk. “No use making them stress before we’ve even arrived. They’re already on my nerves as it is.”

“Levi –”

“Hange, these kids were all raised in nice, happy households, where the biggest problem was if they did their chores or not. Their parents probably told them all sorts of scary stories about the underground city, and how it was full of big, bad, gangsters who eat children for dinner. I’d rather not deal with crybabies shitting their pants before we’re even in Sina.”

Hange raised their hands in surrender. “Alright, I won’t meddle anymore –” Levi scoffed. “But, really, you should probably tell them about the mission at least.”

“If they want to know, they’ll ask.”

 

Levi is able to enjoy two more blissful hours of silence before Eren pipes up.

“Captain?”

“What is it, Jaeger?” he stares straight ahead, Wall Sina looming closer and closer. Almost there.

“You still haven’t told us what the purpose of this mission is.”

In his peripheral vision, Levi catches Hange shooting him a pointed glance and mouthing told you so. He glares at her before replying to Eren.

“I did. The MPs can’t be bothered to clean up after their own messes, and they decided we were the best for the job.”

“But why –” Eren was cut off as they stopped by the wall. Levi slid off his horse, landing on the ground with a light thud before handing the reins off to Hange.

“Hurry up,” he walked up to the two Garrison members leaned up against the insides of the tunnel, chatting casually, passing a bottle back and forth.

“G’day, Capt’n!” one waves the bottle drunkenly as the other grins mindlessly. Levi rolls his eyes, brushing harshly by them.

“Move,” he said. “I thought you were leaving,” he said, glancing at Hange as they handed the reins of the horses to another Garrisson member (looking much younger, sober, and extremely uncomfortable).

“Trololololol –” they ducked, sticking their tongue out at Levi as he swiped at them.

“Captain.” Levi held back a long-suffering sigh as Mikasa ran up to him, gripping him firmly by the shoulder. He repressed the urge to shudder as he shrugged her hand off – not a difficult feat, considering she already had to reach a bit lower, due to her ridiculous height. “You didn’t answer Eren’s question.”

Levi glanced around. Even though he was dressed in civilian clothes – a white, button-down shirt with the top few buttons open, showing skin down to his collarbone beneath a brown leather vest and grey-blue cloak along with dark pants tucked into black, knee-high boots – he was still a recognizable face, even more so now thanks to the coup d’état. It didn’t help that the members of his squad had made something of a name for themselves during the coup. They were already gaining a number of looks from passing people, and he huffed quietly to himself in frustration.

“Follow me,” he ducked into a nearby alleyway, weaving around houses and behind storefronts, eyes searching the road. “And don’t call me Captain while we’re on this mission – just Levi. Actually, don’t even address me by name at all, that would be preferable.”

“What?” he could practically hear Kirschtein scowl. “Cap – um, Levi, what’s going on?”

“We’re going to the Underground,” he said as they began leaving the bustling city behind. He could practically hear the looks of shock the soldiers gave each other (and he could definitely hear Hange’s annoying screeching). “Just follow me, okay?”

“Levi,” Mikasa’s eyes narrowed as he led them into a wild, grassy area, a place somebody would not expect to be in the middle of the capital. “Explain –”

“Whaaaaaa?” Hange gasped as Levi stopped. “What’s this?”

Levi stared down into the wide, gaping hole in the ground. Dirt crumbled by his toes, falling into the wide cavern below, stone walls curving away into a rough domed roof. At the bottom of the pit, a small pond, presumably created by rainwater, sparkled in the sun, the rays of sunlight bouncing off of it contrasting heavily with the grimy walls and stone surrounding it.

Levi took a deep breath as the soldiers and Hange ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the sight.

Stop. Please.

His fists clenched, and he felt his nails digging little crescent marks into his skin.

“Levi?” he glanced at Eren out of the corner of his eye. “I thought you said we were going to the Underground. . . isn’t the entrance in the city?”

“Incognito, brat,” Levi snapped. And, before he could think of any more way to talk himself out of doing it, he took a step forwards and free-fell into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't notice before, but another writer on AO3, whose works I really enjoy, published an Underground Levi work that's really similar to this one (genderfxck_levi, A Prayer for the Unclean). Just letting you know I did NOT know this existed before writing WMS, and I did NOT copy.
> 
> Okay, bye.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is some badly-written Levi god mode for y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a little late, but I made the stupid mistake of rewatching ACWNR and spent the past week crying under the covers (Also, my computer crashed, but stfu nobody cares).

Levi only lets himself fall for a second before shooting the hooks from his gear, letting the hooks embed themselves in the soft, earthy ceiling on the cavern rather than the hard, impenetrable rock of the walls. The wires screech, pulled taut, and he releases the triggers of his handles as the dry dirt holding his weight from the floor gave way, showering him with specks of dirt, much to his disgust. He bent his knees, absorbing the impact of the harsh stone floor through his whole body, landing lightly on his feet. However, the landing sends a jolt of pain through his left leg, and it’s all he can take not to gasp in shock.

            “. . . evi!” He looked up at the small opening of light above him and sees the silhouette of a head blocking the light. “Levi!”

            “It’s fine,” he called, shading his eyes. “Jump, it’s not that far.”

            “But, sir –”

            “Do it, already!”

            The head moves back and, seconds later, three specks leap into the hole, wires shooting out of their gear, aiming for the walls.

            “Wait, don’t –"

            The hooks bounce off the hard stone, and the shocked noises of the three specks could be heard as they fell, one roaring in manly, manly, completely justified terror, one barely making any noise (seriously, she was completely silent), and one screaming like a kettle.

            Eren, Armin, and Mikasa land on the ground, miraculously managing to not break any bones (what do you know, looks like they did learn something at cadets after all), tumbling down to stop next to Levi, a groaning pile of limbs. Jean follows, stumbling a bit, but showing no obvious discomfort than a bit of wincing and a groan, followed shortly by Sasha and Connie, both of them somehow managing to land somewhat gracefully, though Connie did stumble and face-plant into the stone as he did.

            “Owowowowow,” Connie rolled around on the ground, clutching his head. “Owow motherfucking _ow_.”

            “My food!” Sasha wailed, staring into her open backpack, eyes wide at the display of crushed bread and potatoes.

            “Eren, are you okay?” Mikasa helped Eren to his feet, eyes full of concern.

            “Yeah, fine. . .”

            Mikasa’s gaze drifted to Levi and her worried expression was replaced with one of fury. “You!” she cried, stomping forwards. “What is wrong with you? Eren could have been seriously hurt, and –” she cuts off with a squeak as Levi slaps his hand over her mouth.

            “Quiet,” he looks around the cavern. _Hold on_. . . “Where’s shitty –”

            “Leeevviii!”

            He looked up to see a screaming mess barrelling towards him, and barely just managed to stick his arms out in time to catch himself as Hange landed directly on top of him.

            “What do you think –” he sighed as they rolled off, looking around like a curious (and remarkably stupid) puppy. “You know what? Never mind.” He stood up, brushing the dirt from off his pants (great, less than five minutes underground and he’s already filthy). He looked around at the cavern and was hit with a slew of messy emotions. Sadness, bittersweet happiness, fear, and disdain filled him as he looked around at the overarching stone, at the rocks where they used to lie, bathing in the sun they’d never seen before, so high and unreachable, even with their 3DMG, each passing cloud more than enough to block their only salvation. He forced his gaze back down.

            “Follow me, all of you,” he said, cursing the audible tremor in his voice. “And be quiet. I’m serious, this time.” He wound around the mountain of trash to the small pathway, carved crudely out of the stone in the far wall.

            “Ca – Levi, where are we going?” Sasha whispered as even Levi was forced to duck at the small cavern.

            “This isn’t safe, we should go back –” Mikasa cuts off with a quiet gasp (that sounded more like a barely supressed choke) as they exit the cavern. Eren gags, bringing his hand to his mouth, and even Hange, who made it a point to spend at least half of their day with steaming Titan corpses whenever they could, had to pinch their nose at the smell. Levi clenched his jaw at the familiar smell filling his nostrils. Musk, dusty, threatening to clog his lungs; filth, the stenches of rancid trash and steaming shit filling the air. And, hanging over it all, like an ever-present storm cloud, threatening to spill rains to drown the land, hung the reek of death – blood mixing with the fetid reek of decaying flesh, the sickeningly rotted sweetness of skin, muscles, and organs, spilling out into streets already so contaminated with so much blood and rubbish that there was no longer anybody that cared enough to avoid wading through the ever-growing pools of bodies; besides, the corpse merchants would get rid of them soon enough, anyways.

            “Um, Levi?” Eren ventured, looking uncomfortable and out-of-place. “How do we get down?”

            Everybody else seemed to notice the problem at the same time; they were standing on a small ledge, barely larger than a dining table, jutting out of the side of the rock wall, with no visible way down. Levi sighed, sitting down on the edge, letting his legs swing off the side. He gripped the edge before sliding off, swinging himself around to face the rock wall. His hands and feet found bumps, cracks and dips in the surface as he climbed down, small hands fitting into the grooves and natural handholds.

            He glanced up when he noticed nobody following him to see the other soldiers not following him. “Well, come on,” he said.

            Hange was the first one to take on the offer, swinging off the side of the cliff as if they had been born to do so. “Come on, recruits! Adventure awaits!” But even their voice lacked its usual annoyingly bright cheerfulness.

            They got down the cliff slower than Levi would have liked, and, by the time they all stood, gathered near the outskirts of the city, their palms were all chalked in rocky dust, fingers trembling from having to hold themselves on the sheer edge.

            “Oh, my god,” Armin muttered, the hem of his shirt pressed firmly to his mouth. Levi followed his gaze to a small boy, maybe a few years younger than the rookies, lying on the ground by the filthy waters of the slow-flowing underground river. His cheeks were hollow and pinched, hair that could have been any color, but indistinguishable due to the dirt and dust that had settled over his entire body. He was curled up on his side, watching the group with distant, vacant eyes.

             “No,” Levi said, already knowing what the kind-hearted boy wanted to do. “Arlert, we’re leaving.”

            “But, Captain. . .” Armin’s voice trailed off as he stared at the boy. “We can’t –”

            “Yes, we can.” Levi snapped. “Come _on_.”

            Armin stiffened, and before Levi could stop him, he was marching across the space between, them, hand already in his pocket. “Hi,” he said gently to the little boy, who barely spared Armin a glance as he huddled into a smaller ball. “Hey. Here,” he held out his hand, showing the boy a handful of coins. The boy’s eyes widened, and he sat up, taking them gingerly in his hands. He turned one over and stared up at Armin. Armin smiled, and the boy blinked, shrinking back a bit. Armin’s gentle look changed to one of confusion as the boy stood and raced off, disappearing into the shadows.

            “I don’t understand. . .” Armin frowned, genuinely confused, and Levi sighed.

            “Things work differently down here than on the surface.” He shot his wires to the other side of the river and leapt over, knowing better than to trust the rickety, rotting old bridge (if it even still existed). “I don’t want to see any more acts of charity, got it? Most likely, that kid’s run off to tell all of his little friends about the nice military man with pockets full of cash and a group of comrades to go with it.” He turned to face the others as they landed next to him, faces grim. “Am I clear?”

            “Yes, sir.”

 

xxx

 

The trip through town was uneventful, and far smoother than expected. The soldiers, even Hange, who had wheedled Levi into telling them about the Underground (Briefly. Very briefly), stuck to him like very annoying glue, flinching away from every passerby, shuddering every time somebody shot them a nasty look, which happened a lot. Levi didn’t blame them; it wasn’t often any new faces showed up in the Underground, let alone somebody clean, and positively reeking of the surface. The Scouts didn’t exactly have it easy – they were treated the worst out of all the military branches – but, compared to the people they were walking by, the Survey Corps might as well have been living like kings. But nobody tried to mug them, and people who strayed to close were quickly warned away by a glare from Levi.

            _So far, so good_ , Levi thought, shifting his hood a bit. So far, the only people who had made to approach them had been common street thugs, none of them bearing great significance. _By the way things are going, we might actually get to headquarters before_ –

            “Hey,”

            Levi stopped, cursing under his breath. He felt Eren stiffen next to him (jeez, they were _really_ close) as glared ahead, the soldiers shuffling around him, to face the man blocking their path.

            “Levi,” he titled his head, yellowed teeth bared in a fool’s imitation of a grin as the group of mindless cronies behind him chuckled robotically. “Been a while.”

            “Jason,” Levi tossed his hood back, glaring up at the man (damn his ridiculous height). “I’m surprised you’re still alive. You’re looking. . . well,” his eyes flashed as he said the last word, and Jason’s own murky brown orbs narrowed as he reached up, caressing the mess of scars slashed across his face, like some sort of macabre art project.

            “Keep forgetting to thank you for these,” he commented, tracing one finger along a particularly deep one. “They’ve been a real gift, let me tell you. Waking up in the morning and looking in the mirror only to be reminded of you. . . I didn’t think it was possible to hate you any more than I already did.” He threw his head back with a hoarse hacking noise that could have been either an attempt at a laugh or him choking to death.

            “It was my pleasure,” Levi’s monotonous tone was barely a decibel from a snarl. “Though I am surprised that your mirrors are all still in one piece; I’d have thought they’d all have shattered just by you looking in them.” He heard a sharp gasp from behind him as Jason’s eyes narrowed and he scowled, thick fingers drifting towards a sheathed blade on his belt. “How did you find me?”

            “A little rat told me,” Jason sneered. “Mentioned something about a blondie with a fistful of cash and a grey-eyed shorty in tow.” Armin squeaked from behind Levi. “So, what’s the great Levi doing back here?” he crossed his arms. “Rumors’ve reached even down here, ya know. Everybody up above’s talking about Humanity’s Greatest Soldier, the one who’ll lead them all to victory. Betcha none of those plumed pigs know what their great idol did before joining up, eh?”

            “It’s not something I like to bring up during parties,” Levi commented, glancing down at his fingernails as if he were utterly bored by the proceedings. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have somewhere to be –”

            “We, huh?” Jason lifted his chin, glaring down his nose at the shorter man. “So you brought friends, did you?” his eyes drifted over the 104th, who all bunched together under his gaze. “Wonder what was so important that you’d risk them finding out about you?” Levi’s eye twitched, and Jason grinned.

            “Somewhere important, you said?” he glanced back at his cronies, who all raised their weapons – a messy array of knives, sharpened stones, scorched pots and pans of varying degrees of corrosion, and a wooden plank with a mess of nails sticking out of the end. “Well, I could let you pass. . . for a price.” Levi didn’t cow as Jason leaned over, putting his face mere millimeters away from his. “Shame, I don’t see Isabel anywhere. . . guess I’ll have to go for the next best thing.” His eyes drifted to Mikasa and Sasha, who’s eyes widened as they realized what he was implicating.

            “Oh, hell nah!” Connie grabbed onto Sasha. “If you think you’re putting a finger on them –”

            “Stay out of this, Springer,” Levi hissed, silver eyes narrowed to slits of pure hatred. “Not happening,” he growled.

            “Oh, yeah?” Jason challenged. “That an offer?”

            “I won’t say it again,” Levi hissed. “Back. Off.”

            “You won’t say it again,” Jason scoffed, stepping back, running a hand through his bleached and absolutely filthy white hair. “Yeah, you won’t be saying it again. ‘N fact, it’ll be one of the many things you won’t be saying again.” Suddenly, strong, meaty hands were around his throat, and Levi was slammed into a hard brick wall, completely winded, black spots dancing in his vision as Jason squeezed, knuckles white as Levi shuddered with the force of the life being squeezed out of him. In the back of his mind, he registered shouts from his troops, a blurry mess in the corner of his fading vision that might have been them trying to get past the goonies surrounding them.

            _No way_.

            His trembling fingers worked their way between his shirt and vest, groping about. His fingers met wood as he gripped a handle and slashed upwards.

            A roar met his ears as he stumbled back, Jason kneeling on the ground, hand to the deep stab wound on his forearm. His eyes snapped back to a gasping Levi, bloodied knife in hand. “Get him!” he roared at his cronies, who all charged forwards, screaming and waving their makeshift weapons.

            Levi scoffed. _What a bother_.

            He dodged the wild slashes and projectiles with ease, dancing through the maelstrom of dangerously sharp objects (it would be an insult to weapons to refer to them as such), his dagger making him a whirling windmill of death, cutting through throats, slashing open stomachs, and stabbing through hearts as if he did it every day.

            Which, once, he did.

            The last body fell to the ground with a _thud_ , and Levi stepped over the cooling bodies, standing before the still-kneeling Jason, his eyes wide, a splatter of blood on his cheek.

            Levi’s foot slammed into the side of his head and he face planted with a squawk. Levi ground his heel against his cheek, forcing him into the dirt. “Listen, Jason,” he said coolly. “I’m only here because the MPs are too shitfaced to do their jobs. And you’re going to help me, got it?” he shoved his foot in the man’s mouth before he could answer, forcing a few yellowed, rotting teeth to fall, landing on the dusty ground. “Know anything about the disappearing military on the surface?”

            He tugged his boot out, and Jason hacked for a bit before looking back up at him. “Bastard,” he growled, and hacked, spittle and blood flying from his mouth as Levi kicked him harshly in the stomach. “I ain’t telling you _nothing_!” he spat.

            “Why, you –” Levi pulled his foot back for another kick, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

            “Levi,” he looked up at Hange. “We need to go. People are gathering.” Sure enough, people were trickling past, oggling at the carnage, whispers circulating through the crowd as people stared shamelessly at Levi.

            Levi glared down at the bloody man on the ground. “If I ever see you again,” he snarled. “Or if you think that you’re ever worthy to even say _her_ name again, I will end you.” He finished with a final kick to the face, hearing a satisfying crunch as his nose shattered beneath Levi’s feet, and turned, walking down the street, glare clearing a path as he flipped his hood up, the soldiers scampering to keep up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many AoT fanfictions I'm working on right now. . . I'm that one person who bounces from one fandom to another, with literally no in-betweens (It was all Death Note last year, Kuroshitsuji until a few months ago, and I think my parents are placing bets on how long it'll take until I move on to Tokyo Ghoul or something). I do watch/read other stuff, but I normally find myself rewatching a lot of that one specific series in this time period.
> 
> ^Just felt like saying that because SOME PEOPLE don't understand the concept of FOCUSED INTEREST (*coughs loudly and dramatically*)


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Levi thinks about dust and can't put on jewelry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late! I have a bunch of things going on rn (I have seven tests and an in-class essay this week HELP), and it's been kind of hard to find time to write. I was going to post it this weekend, but I was at a MUN conference all weekend, and my brain was fried. On another note, I sponsored a resolution paper, and it was my first conference, so YAY.

Levi’s footsteps were deadened by a thick layer of dust as he walked up the hauntingly familiar steps. Gone was the honor guard lined up on the sides of the steps, heads bowed in cowed submission, searching eyes watching, filled with admiration, hate, curiosity, and more. The stool that had once rested by the steps was gone, the lingering fear of a long-departed mob boss not nearly enough to stop people from pilfering a perfectly good source of firewood. The candles that had lit up the windows, making even this cold, forgotten corner of the world seem warm and homey. He hesitated for a moment at the door, before pushing it open, holding back a wince at the creaking noise it made.

            “Everybody, in.” They filed into the dark, cold living room, silent as ghosts. “There should be candles on the table.” Hange fumbled with a pack of matches before lighting one, a puff of dust escaping the wick along with the smoke as the room lit up. Levi wrinkled his nose, wafting his hand in front of his face, a dank, musty scent filling the air.

            Hange lights a few more candles, the dull, flickering flame casting weak light over the furniture in the room. Levi bites his lip as he brushes a thick layer of dust off one of the chairs, kicking his feet onto the table, rousing a tiny mushroom cloud of grime. He looked around. Dust lined the furniture, which had been moved from the positions they’d been in when he’d left. The couch was now pushed against the opposite wall, new holes and wears in the material patched over roughly with mismatched cloth. One of the chairs lay, knocked-over, in the corner, and there was a spot where the floorboards had been smashed through, force combined with age and wear crushing the wooded fibers. His eyes lingered on the sharp, fresh and sharp, perfect for getting splinters. He distantly wondered who the MPs had evicted in order to make space for them.

            “Sit down,” the soldiers sat gingerly, either on the chairs, the couch, sending up clouds of grime into the air. Hange shook the match out before sitting on the ground. Finally, he spoke.

            “Do you remember what I told you during the coup?” a series of nods. “Well, the same rules go down here. Do _not_ hesitate. They won’t. Things work differently down here than up there. And don’t go telling anybody you’re military, either – you’ll likely end up with a knife in your gut. Mikasa,” the girl glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell anybody you’re an Ackerman – Kenny didn’t leave a very good reputation for your clan.” He ignores Hange’s excessive staring and eyebrow-raising. “If anyone asks, just say you’re a Jaeger, or Kirschtein, or Blouse, or whatever. Clear?” She nods, and he looked over at Sasha and Connie. “Baldy – no more ‘protective boyfriend’ shit,” he ignored the snickers and Connie’s cherry-red face. “Let anybody know about any weakness, and they’ll exploit it.”

            “Good,” he nods. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about the mission.” He sees them stiffen, sitting straighter, eyes alert. “There’ve been military personnel and gear disappearing from the surface. The MPs have narrowed it down to the Underground; although, with all the crime down here, it’ll be impossible to find the culprits going off just that,” he added in a grumbled.

            “But why send us?” Jean asked. “Shouldn’t this be the MPs job?” Hange looked at him pointedly and he resisted the urge to kick them.

            “Good point,” Levi sighed. “The MPs don’t know nearly as much about the Underground as I do – the troops they have down here are all either shitfaced greenhorns or incompetent pigs who come for the brothels.” A bitter taste filled his mouth. “In other words, they’re lazy asses and we need to clean up their messes, as usual.”

            “How do _you_ know so much about the Underground?” the words, which, coming from anybody else, would have been seeping with suspicion held only curiosity from Eren.

            Levi cricks his neck, looking up at the dusty ceiling (this place was a wreck – how the hell does a _ceiling_ get dusty?). “Don’t you all spend half your time blabbing about that rumor that I was a mob boss down here?” There was an instant reddening of faces and aversion of gazes. He snorted. _Figures_. “Well, spoiler alert, it’s true.” He waved a hand around the room. “Welcome to my home, sweet home. Forgive the mess, I haven’t been able to do much cleaning in the past few years.” _Six years_. “Consider this our base of operations until we finish the mission. Do not leave, unless accompanied by me, and don’t open the door unless you know for certain it’s one of the people in this room.” A round of nods. “Good.” He glanced to the left. “There’re three rooms down the hall.” His voice catches, and he curses inwardly. “Take your pick. There might be rats, though.” _And dust. Lots and lots of dust_. He wrinkles his nose, brushing at the table surface. _Stupid filth_.

            “Sir – uh, Levi?” he glanced up at Eren. “We’re not going to be cleaning?” Everybody stared at him, shocked, and Levi glanced back down.

            “What, do you want to?” Eren opened his mouth, and he shook his head. “No – best nobody else finds out we’re here. Besides, I’d like to get this mission over as soon as possible.” _And leave_. He toyed with a knot in the wood of the table for a while, before looking up and seeing that everybody was still staring at him. “Well? Get going, we’re going to be here for a while. Get some sleep.”

            The chairs screeched as they scraped against the stone floor, the excited chatter nothing but a memory as they filed out of the room, leaving only Levi and Hange. They stood, wiping their pants and sitting in the chair previously occupied by Connie.

            “You okay?” Levi looked up at them, surprised to see them looking serious, for once in their life.

            “Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” God, he wished he had some tea. _Maybe the leaves in the cupboard are still consumable_?

            “Jeez,” Hange sighed, stretching across the table before Levi could think about how filthy it was. “You know, there are times to be stoic and cool and stuff, but now’s not one of those times.” They looked up at him, brown eyes concerned. “You can talk to me.”

            “I’d rather not,” he mumbled, tugging his revolver out of the inside of his vest, shaking the bullets onto the table as he began polishing the chamber with the hem of his cloak. “It’s just. . .” he hesitated, fingers stopping. “I don’t want to be here.” He all but whispered.

            Hange bit their lip, looking, for the first time, utterly lost. Levi sighed, sliding the bullets back in one by one, snapping the chamber shut with a click. “Whatever – it’s not like we have a choice. Shitty MPs,” he added as an afterthought, and Hange chuckled.

            “So, what’s on the schedule for tomorrow, oh Captain, my Captain?”

            “I’ll see if I can get a hold of some of my old contacts again; there are a few people who were loyal to a fault, I’ll see if they’re still alive, and whether or not that’s still true.” Hange stuck their lower lip out, contemplating.

            “And if they’re not?”

            Levi shrugged. “If they’re dead, there’s nothing we can do. If they’re feeling a little traitorous, then, well,” he mimed dragging a knife across his throat, and Hange frowned.

            “That’s not funny, Levi.”

            “It’s not supposed to be.” He slid his dagger out from his boot, turning it over in the candlelight. “Kind of a double-edged sword, huh? In this scenario, _I’m_ the traitor. I escaped, and got to go up to the surface, even leave the fucking _walls_. I wouldn’t blame them if they resent me for that; god, I would resent myself for that.”

            Hange hummed, saying nothing. Levi appreciated that. “Will you bring anyone with you tomorrow?”

            Levi put the point of the blade to the knot in the table, balancing it, one finger on the end of the handle. “I’m not sure – Jean, probably. He’s probably the most level-headed person in the group, and I’m going to need that, considering where I’m going.”

            Hange raised and eyebrow. “Which is. . ?”

            “It’s –” the door of the hallway crashed open, and Levi was on his feet at once, knife in hand.

            “Woah!” Connie raised his hands – well, as well as he could, seeing as he was carrying a box. “Sorry, Cap – er, I mean, Levi. Sasha was complaining about it being cold, so we found some old junk to burn; there is a fireplace, right?” Levi’s eyes flew to the box, and he was across the room in a flash, grabbing it out of his hands. “Hey!”

            “Where did you find this?” Levi demanded, tugging open the lid, staring down at the contents.

            “It was under a loose floor board; Eren broke his ankle after he stepped through it – oh, he’s fine now, it’s already healed. But we looked inside, and it was just a bunch of old papers –” Connie’s words died as Levi pulled one of the papers out, staring at it.

            It was a simple sketch, no more than a collection of lines, but detailed nonetheless. An almost perfect rendering of Levi was glaring at nothing in particular, his scowl punctuating his obvious displeasure as a large, blond boy laughed, ruffling his hair and reaching across him, grinning, towards a small girl. She looked no older than fifteen, sitting on the other side of Levi, legs splayed, hair pulled into two short, messy pigtails. She had a hand on Levi’s shoulder, the other holding a pencil and draped casually over a piece of paper in her lap, making it clear that she was the artist. Levi folded it up, tucking into his vest. Connie looked ridiculously uncomfortable and guilty, avoiding Levi’s eyes.

            “Sorry,” he muttered. “I –” Levi ignored him, reaching back into the box and taking out a necklace – a slender cord with a simple, feminine charm hanging from it. Levi wordlessly handed the box back to Connie.

            “You can burn the rest of that,” he said, voice monotonous. “It’s just old records – the fireplace’s over there.” He tilted his head, and Connie rushed forwards, face the color of a tomato. Levi returned to his seat, necklace in hand, watching as Connie clumsily lit the fire, crumpling up scrap sheets of paper, tossing them in, followed by the box, before rushing back out, determinedly ignoring Levi’s gaze. He looked down at the necklace, fingering it awkwardly.

            “That’s the one Isabel wore, right?” He looked up at Hange.

            “Oh. . . no. That one was eaten.” He felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. “But this was the one that she made herself – her first draft, I guess you could call it.”

            Hange watched him for a moment. “Do you need help?”

            He held it out to them and they chuckled, looping it around his neck, clasping the simple hook. They all but cackled as he turned around. “You look so adorable!” He scowled, kicking at their shin.

            “Go to bed,” they sat back down.

            “Aw,” they pouted, but turned around anyways. “You coming?”

            “No,” he turned his head. “I’ll keep watch.” They stuck their tongue out at him, but left anyways, door closing gently behind them. Levi sighed, stretching out his arms on the table and laying his head down.

            “Tch,” he wrinkled his nose as the dust billowed up. His eyes watered, and he wiped at them fiercely. “Damnit,” he sat up, shaking the dust off his sleeves. _God fucking damnit_.

            His eyes fell on the old guitar propped up in a corner of the room, and a feeling comparable to an iron fist twisting his stomach shot through him. He dragged the heel of his hand across his eyes again, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. _Calm the hell down_.

            He stormed forwards, grabbing the guitar by the neck and raising it, with all the intention of smashing it against the hard stone floor. But, just before he swung, he hesitated. Memories flashed through his mind – the strums of the gentle instrument drifting through the window as business deals were discussed; Isabel pouting with frustration as the stubborn strings refused to do what she wanted; Farlan laughing as Levi struggled with the chords. He lowered it, staring at the worn, dust-caked neck.

            He sighed, sitting back down in his chair and strumming the strings gently with his thumb, twiddling the tuning keys as he did.

 _Chairs so close, a room so small, you and I talk all the night long. Meager this space but serves us all the well. We comrades have stories to tell_.

            Levi bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he plucked at the strings.

            _And it’s always like that in the evening time. We drink and we sing when our fighting is done. And it’s always so we live under the burnt clouds. Ease our burden, der nacht is lang_.

            He grit his teeth, standing and propping the guitar back up in the corner. “I was never any good,” he muttered to himself, then chuckled, shaking his head.

            “Damn it all. . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this in class and my classmates' presentations are making me lose brain cells somebody send help.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean-boy grows a brain and Levi plays the zebra plonker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! An update!
> 
> Sorry if this seems a bit rushed/doesn't make sense. Trust me, everything will be made clear in the following chapters! I've got the whole plot worked out, I just need to get it on paper (or, in this case, my Word doc).

Jean muttered into the hard, lumpy mattress, shifting a bit as something sharp nudged him in the side. “Not now, Mom,” he grumbled, turning his face into the pillow. He growled as he was nudged again, harder this time. “I swear to god, Jaeger –”

            He yelped as a hard slap landed on his face, sending him flying out of bed. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his cheek, still stinging from the blow. “Commandant! I wasn’t sleeping, I swear!”

            A boot landed in his face as he kept saluting, still sitting on the floor. “Shut the hell up, Kirschtein.”

            He paled. “Captain?”

            “Get up. And put some clothes on.” A shirt and pair of plants fluttered down, landing on his head.

            “‘S breakfast?” Connie raised his head from the other side of the bed, Eren flopped over him, snoring like a Titan (was that steam rising from his nostrils?).

            “Go back to sleep,” Levi said. “Meet me in the front in five minutes,” he told Jean.

            Jean grumbled to himself as he got dressed. “What the hell,” he groaned, pulling his pants on. “Join the Special Operations Squad, they said! It’ll be fun, they said! Private rooms are _not_ worth this!” He jammed his boots on his feet, running a hand through his hair as he left the room.

            Levi looked up as Jean entered the living room, sliding daggers into his boots. Jean raised an eyebrow as the short Captain stared at him quizzically. “What?”

            “Your fly’s undone, dumbass,” Jean yelped, quickly covering his crotch. “And your shirt’s inside-out.” Levi sighed as Jean began fumbling with his shirt. “Whatever. You’ll be wearing a cloak, anyways.” He tugged his own grey-blue cloak over his shoulders.

            “No ODM, sir?” Jean asked, pulling on his brown cloak.

            “Not necessary,” Levi replied. “Where we’re going, we’ll have to take it off anyways.”

            “Where, sir?” Jean asked as they left the house, making their way through the streets.

            “It’s a safe zone,” Levi explained. “Kind of like neutral ground. No fighting’s allowed, unless you want every weapon-bearing person in the Underground chasing after you.”

            “Everyone, sir?” Jean paled, imagining what would happen if he and Eren decided to pick a fight in a ‘safe zone’.

            “Yeah. Trust me, you don’t want to see a thug get bludgeoned to death by a group of grannies.” Levi shuddered at the memory. “And what did I say about the ‘sir’s?”

            “Sorry, s – Levi.” Jean looked up. He stared at the swinging sign above the door, slightly rotted with age, showing a voluptuous woman holding two beer mugs. “Uh, is this it?”

            “Mhm,” Levi tugged the daggers out of his boots, dropping them in a box by the door, then shook two out of his sleeves. Jean watched, mouth slightly opened, as he tugged two more, along with a loaded revolver, out from his vest. He paused for a moment, debating, then shoved his hand down the neck of his shirt, pulling out yet another. “Any weapons, Kirschtein?” Jean shook his head. Levi clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “That’s not good, we’ll need to get you something soon.” He pushed open the door, tilting his head. Jean followed.

            The door opened with a loud creak, and the pair walked in. A few curious eyes glanced over, but, other than that, they gained no extra attention. Levi frowned, noticing a few glares and suspicious looks in his direction. _That’s not good_.

            Jean looked around. There were numerous patrons lounging in the room, settled at tables and booths, drinking from heavy wooden mugs. Most of them looked a lot like what he’d expected the typical Underground thug to look like – large, burly, muscular, and covered in scars. However, he was surprised to see a number of ordinary people scattered throughout. He was relatively shocked to see people with a surprising lack of muscle on their scrawnier forms. He’d expected everybody in the Underground to be akin to a massive, hulking giant. _But, then again, look at my company_. He glanced at the short Captain in front of him.

            What Jean hadn’t been expecting, however, were the women. They varied in ages and appearances, but almost all of them wore skimpy dresses revealing to the point of scandalizing, and were draped all over the room, either over men, seats, or the bar, cigarettes between their lips and glasses in their hands. He quickly turned his head away, face red, as he saw one in a man’s lap as he purred at her, hand sliding down her thigh.

            “Levi,” he whispered. “Is this, um –”

            “Bar,” he replied, sounding almost bored, unaffected by the scenes. “But the ladies have rooms upstairs.”

            “Ah,” Jean watched the shorter man, unsettled.

            He walked up to the bar, Jean following. He tapped the countertop, and the snaggletoothed man behind it glanced up from the mug he’d been polishing (lamentably). “Is Nicky Wood here?”

            The man looked him up and down, then snorted. “Ain’t you a bit young for a whore, kid?”

            Levi’s clenched his jaw, nails digging grooves into the bar. “Is. Nicky. Here?”

            The man snarled, dropping the mug on the counter (Levi quickly removed his hand). He turned, kicking the door behind him. “Oi, Nickles!” he shouted. “Some kid here for you!”

            “Well, tell ‘im to fuck off!” a voice called from the other side, faint and muffled. “I’m busy!”

            “Sticking your hand up your own ass in the pantry doesn’t count as busy!” the man yelled back. “Just get your ass out here already!”  
            The door banged open. A young woman, shorter than Jean but taller than Levi, stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. Unlike the other women in the room, she didn’t wear a dress, but, rather, trousers reaching halfway up her calves, a pair of sturdy, slight worn-out work boots, and a shirt, albeit with the buttons undone just low enough to be considered lewd. She tossed a lock of artificial blonde hair over her shoulders as she stormed up to the bar. “You better start talking a bit nicer, if you want your paycheck!” she knocked the man on the head.

            “Whatever,” he scowled, but there was fondness in his eyes. “This brat stormed in, wanting to talk to you. Asked by name.”

            “Who –” the girl turned her head, and paled. Her brown eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “Levi?”

            He inclined his head. “Nicky.”

            Her jaw opened and closed wordlessly. “Marius,” she snapped suddenly. “Beer. Lots of it.”

            “Whatever you say,” he popped the cork off an old bottle and dumped the contents into a wooden mug, handing it to Nicky. She downed the whole thing in one gulp, some of it splashing down her face. She slammed it down on the bar, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, and looked up again. She wrinkled her nose.

            “Oh. You’re still here.”

            “I doubt a single cup would make me disappear,” Levi replied. “I need to talk to you.”

            “No.”

            Jean raised his eyebrows. Nobody ever denied the Captain.

            “It’s important,” Levi said. “C’mon. Pull a favor for an old friend, will you?”

            Nicky narrowed her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, she walked around the bar, feet moving in jerky, robotic movements. She stopped in front of Levi, glaring down at him from her five foot four inches, a full inch taller than the stoic soldier, and, without warning, punched him in the stomach.

            Jean jumped.

            Levi didn’t react, face slightly inclined to meet her gaze. Nicky trembled for a moment before yelping and yanking her hand away, cradling it. “Sweet fucking Sina!” she hissed. “Your abs are fucking rock hard!”

            “So I’ve been told,” Levi’s silver gaze shifted to Jean, and he flushed, remembering their conversation about his ‘anatomical buildup’. “Seriously, Nicky, I just need some info.”

            Nicky’s expression darkened. “Get over here,” she tilted her head. “The horseface with you?” she pointed at Jean, who spluttered indignantly. “Fine. You too, stallion,” she waved her hand, leading the pair to an unoccupied table in the back. She slid into a seat, the two men following.

            “Don’t be a stubborn shit, Nicky,” Levi said the moment they sat down. “This is important.”

            Nicky glared at him. “Look who’s talking,” she sneered. “You know, if I didn’t own this fucking safety net, your guts would be on the walls right now. You were gone for six _years_ , you shit.”

            Jean glanced between the two of them, interest peaked. _Gone?_

“Not by choice, trust me,” Levi grumbled.

            “That’s it?” Nicky hissed. “‘Not by choice’? That’s all you have to say? You, Isabel, and Farlan pop off the face of the earth like an ugly zit, and leave the rest of us to deal with this shit! We thought you were _dead_ , goddamnit. We burnt our fucking candles for you! And then, one day, out of the blue, all the surface merchants and Unicorn pigs are blabbing about Humanity’s Greatest Soldier, the Survey Corps’ fucking trump card, the man no Titan can kill, the great _Captain Levi_ ,” she clenched a fist. “What the _hell_ , Levi? Why would you, of all people, join the military? The dumbest regiment, too! And _how?_ ”

            “Long story,” Levi didn’t rise at the bait. “That would probably take nine chapters and two twenty-five-minute episodes to explain.”

            Nicky looked confused. “What?”

            “Hell, if I know,” he crossed his arms. “Listen, it wasn’t my choice to enlist, but I stuck with it. We’re on a mission right now, and I need info.”

            “Well you can get it somewhere else,” she snapped. “I’m not sticking my neck out for a few green cloaks.”

            “Hey –!” Jean began.

            “Quit your neighing, Kirschtein,” Levi said. “Nicky,” Jean raised his eyebrows as Levi’s voice became lower by a decibel, leaning forwards slightly on his arms. “Look, we’re messing with some big shit right now.” He titled his head slightly, dark locks falling over his eyes. “And we can’t get anywhere without info. Please. Just tell us what you know, and we’ll be out of your hair, all right?” He flicked a bit of her bleached blonde locks, and Jean grimaced, remembering Eren doing to same on their first day of training with Mikasa. Levi’s eyes were fixed on Nicky’s.

            She held his gaze for a moment before scoffing, crossing her own arms. “Nice try. I haven’t fallen for that ‘seduction’ shit since I was a brat.”

            “You say that like you’re not still one,” Levi grumbled, leaning back in his seat, flirtatious manner vanishing faster than Titan blood. “Fine – what do you want?”

            Nicky’s eyes zeroed in on the necklace around Levi’s neck. Jean glanced at it. He had noticed it that morning, but hadn’t thought much of it. Looking at it now, he noticed that it was surprisingly effeminate, obviously handmade, rough around the edges, but surprisingly elegant, nonetheless. “Isabel?” Nicky asked.

            Levi nodded wordlessly, and a flurry of emotions passed through the woman’s eyes. Her fingers tapped the table surface, and she bit her lip. “Play something,” she said suddenly.

            Levi looked up. “What?”

            “Play something,” she repeated. “It’s been a slow day, and everybody’s getting bored, even the girls. Plonk out a tune, or some shit. I dunno, just liven things up a bit.”

            Levi raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to attract customers or drive them away.”

            “You play?” Jean asked suddenly, then slapped a hand over his mouth, flushing, as Nicky and Levi both turned to him.

            “Don’t screw up,” Levi said simply.

            Nicky shot him a pointed look. “Play,” she said. “I’ll talk to the handsome stallion.” Jean’s face heated up.

            “Fine,” Levi stood, glancing at Jean. _Fuck up and you’re dead_ , his eyes screamed as he turned, walking towards the piano.

            “So, what do you want to talk about?” Nicky turned to Jean. He quickly turned away, flushing as he spotted her ample cleavage.

            “I –” he started as music began drifting through the room. He looked at the piano in the corner where Levi sat, fingers drifting over the keys as if he’d been born to play. The song was simple but elegant, notes piling over each other in a haunting melody.

            “Hey,” Nicky snapped her fingers. “I don’t have all day. Talk.”

            “Right,” Jean cleared his throat. “Um, there have been soldiers and military gear disappearing from he surface –”

            “And that’s my problem _how_?”

            “Ah,” Jean was about to stutter, then stopped. _Hold on_. The girl had a similar way of speaking as the Captain – not entirely the same, but there were similarities, definitely. She wasn’t answering his questions, but she wasn’t deflecting them, either. An idea began forming in his mind.

            “Who do you know of in the Underground who could afford to pull off large-scale thieveries and abductions?” he spoke firmly.

            Nicky smirked “Plenty,” she said. “You’ll have to get more specific, kid.”

            Jean bristled with indignation at being called _kid_ – by someone shorter than the Captain, too! “Anybody specializing in –” a sudden epiphany hit him, and he felt ready to whoop and call himself Armin. “Labor,” he said. “Labor and, uh, mercenary services?”

            Nicky tapped her chin, mock-thoughtfully. “A few,” she said. “You mentioned military?”

            He nodded.

            She placed her cheek in her hand. “Louis’ place’s been pretty busy lately, but, then again, he’s always got ladies popping over,” she frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe Jacky’s boys? But they’re all skin and bones, doubt they’d be able to snatch any military men off the streets. . . oh, I know!” she snapped her fingers. “There’s a new group near the entrance, they’d be able to get out anytime they like. And they all wear silks and finery and shit, so they’re probably stuffed to the brim with cash to bribe their way out. . . I think they’re called the Blooms?” she snorted. “Dumbasses.”

            “How likely is it that they’re the culprits?” Jean pressed.

            “Well,” Nicky stretched. “I’m not s’possed to tell – neutral, yeah? But, _personally_ ,” she leaned forwards slightly. “If there’s nothing shady going on with them – shadier than usual – then I’ll eat my own ass.”

            Jean nodded slowly, trying to get the (somewhat disturbing) image out of his head. “All right. . .”

            “You should go,” Nicky said suddenly. When Jean didn’t move, her expression hardened. “ _Now_.”

            “Why, what’s –”

            Nicky coughed loudly, banging the table, and Levi’s eyes shot over to her. Jean looked at him, confused, and Levi narrowed his eyes, finishing off the song with a flourish. He stood, moving casually through the bar.

            “It’s them,” Nicky hissed as she stood. “I can’t have you here when they come in.” Jean turned, spotting a group of people taking out their weapons in the front of the bar. “I might be neutral, but I can’t have word get out that I was talking to you or one of your boys.”

            “Back door,” Levi nudged Jean. “ _Now_.”

            “Levi,” Jean whispered as they ducked behind a stack of boxes. “Who’re they –”

            “Assholes,” Levi hissed. “They don’t like me.”

            “Join the club,” Jean muttered. Levi cuffed him as they slipped out of a rotted wooden door, barely hanging off its hinges.

            “Normally, I could take them,” Levi muttered. “But if I bring Nicky trouble, there’ll be hell to pay.”

            “Is she dangerous?” Jean asked as Levi slunk to the front of the shop, ducking beneath the window, tugging his hood up as he began searching for his weapons in the box.

            “Her connections are,” Levi said darkly, sticking his knives back in their sheaths. “Now, come on, we’ve got to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't notice, I've edited the tags a bit. Sorry for all Ereri shippers, but I've lost some of my love for it after the most recent manga arc (MANGA READERS MAY JOIN ME IN MY CRYING CORNER). I've also taken some tags away because a) they were excessive b) I've altered the plot a bit and c) I realized there were a few spoilers in the tags (oops!)


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author finally updates and Connie sneezes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS.

“Hold still!”

            “No, you!”

            “You’re the one moving around like you’ve got a hedgehog in your pants!”

            “Focus!”

            “Shut up!”

            “Excuse me! You’re the loudest one here! Put a sock in it!”

            “Shout a little louder, will ya? I don’t think they heard you over in Maria!”

            “There’s no one _in_ Maria!”

            “That’s the point, dumbass –!”

            “You’re all loud! Shut up!”

            Levi stifled a groan, shifting slightly in their position crouched behind a pile of crates and barrels. At first, he’d thought bringing Sasha, Hange, and Connie would be a good idea. Looking back on it, he wondered what he’d hit his head on.

            It had gone well at first – they’d gotten all the way to the Blooms’ house without a hitch, and even been able to slip into their courtyard by hiding amongst a group of delivery boys. But now, as they huddled in the corner, shoved into the tiny space between the crates and walls, elbows and knees jabbing each other, Levi decided that it had been stupid to be optimistic. Optimism is bad. Optimism gets people killed. Optimism convinces the universe to throw a wrench into your perfect, flawless infiltration plan and ruin your day.

            “Just shut up!” Levi hissed, then winced. “And move your knee, four-eyes.”

            “A bit difficult,” Hange’s voice was a bit muffled, as if their face was pressed against the wall. “I can’t really move anything other than two fingers right now.”

            “Why are we hiding, Cap – Levi?” Sasha asked, arms maneuvered awkwardly around Connie’s head and Levi’s right arm, rifle held precariously in one hand, the barrel resting on top of Hange’s hand.

            “Is your head full of nothing but cotton and potatoes?” Levi snapped. “You’re not a turkey, Braus, so pull that stuffing out from in between your ears.”

            Sasha nodded, quickly slurping up the drool on her lips.

            “Have they come in yet?” Hange asked, face pressed against the wall, one leg in Levi’s lap, the other one crossed over their torso, an elbow jutting into Connie’s face.

            “No,” Connie spoke, voice wheezy from Levi’s elbow, which was lodged in his stomach. “Levi, your elbows are really sharp!”

            “Thank all your gods you’ve never run into his shoulder,” Hange muttered.

            Levi tensed. “Shut up!” he hissed. There was a creaking noise as the three soldiers fell silent, the door to the room opening.

            “What a dump,” a haughty voice spoke, the sound echoing throughout the room which could have been considered sizable even on the surface. “Does the boss actually expect us to stay here?”

            The soldiers exchanged glances (as well as they could, considering none of them could actually see each other, or move at all).

             “Disgusting,” another man sniffed loudly. Levi had a sudden vivid, mental image of a pig wearing a suit, nose grossly exaggerated. “Can’t even tell the people apart from the rats down here – do they make it a habit to roll around in their own shit?” A few hearty guffaws were exchanged.

            Levi’s fists clenched, and Connie barely held back a choking wheeze as his elbow dug significantly deeper.

            “Shame, really,” a third man sighed. “Unfortunately, this is the only place in the Walls where we do some real business – uncouth as they may be, the vermin crawling around down here don’t ask questions. It was a smart investment on the boss’ part.”

            “Even so,” the second man said. “How long do we have until they realize the goods are gone?”

            Hange’s eyes widened, and they frantically began tapping Levi’s lower back, not a difficult feat, considering that their arm was currently wrapped around Sasha’s left leg and under Connie’s foot.

            Levi nodded, and Sasha winced as his chin hit the top of her head. He slowly shifted himself, standing as carefully as he could. Connie bit his lip, holding back a whimper as Levi stepped on his hand, and Hange scrunched their face up, hiding their squawk in the stone wall as Levi planted a foot on their back. He placed his other foot on Connie’s shoulder, putting his hand on Sasha’s head and hoisting himself up, standing on his tiptoes (Hange flapped their hands slightly in indignation as he planted his boot in their face) and straining to look over the boxes.

            _Shit_. He shifted a bit more, wedging a knee in between Sasha’s shoulder and Connie’s back (both recruits swore internally in ways that would have impressed a drunken sailor). He managed to peer over the top of the crates, glancing over the room.

            Connie winced as Levi’s knee, which was rather sharp, dug into the small of his back. _It’s for the mission! Just stick it out!_ He shifted his face a bit, trying to find a slightly better position that didn’t involve him sticking his face in Sasha’s rear. He managed to turn his head slightly and found, to his horror, that his nose was buried in something greasy and threadlike.

            Hange’s ponytail.

            His nose twitched as Hange winced, Levi’s foot still on their face. His nose twitched again, and he made an audible sniff. The talking faltered.

            “Was that you, Claude?”

            Levi glared down at Connie, who was biting his lip, holding back the sneeze bubbling up inside him. His nose twitched again, and Hange’s hairs brushed around his nostrils. He pulled his lips in, wrenching his face up to stop –

            Too late. He sneezed – a small sound, quickly stifled by two pairs of hands, twisted in his direction in an impressive feat of contortionism, and a small foot. But the damage had already been done.

            The boxes, unbalanced by the sudden movement to stifle the not-at-all subtle sneeze, staggered, then toppled like a drunk. The four soldiers tumbled out from behind them, landing in a heap.

            “What the –” Levi looked up, seeing the three men staring at them, shock slowly bleeding into fury. “How the hell’d you get in here, you filthy rats?”

            _Shit_.

            Levi barely managed to dive out of the way as one man tugged a gun out from the inside of his suit, the bullet embedding itself in the floor where the soldier had been only a second before. _Shit!_

            He opened his mouth, ready to give instructions to the others, but all that came out was “ _Run for your fucking lives!_ ” The others were all too eager to comply.

            “If we die, I’m breaking up with you!” Sasha shouted as they ran out of the room, nearly crashing into the wall as they charged out of the room, the shouting, furious men on their tails.

            “It wasn’t my fault!” Connie protested as they ran past a group of more well-dressed men, staring at them, shock quickly clearing on their faces. “Hange’s ponytail was in my face!”  
            “Oh, so now it’s my fault!” Hange squawked, ducking as a bullet whizzed over their head.

            “Can we save this discussion for later?” Levi barely faltered as a man, built like a mountain and twice as tall, charged out of a side room, planting himself in the middle of the hallway, holding his arms out as the Scouts charged towards him.

            Without missing a beat, Levi rammed into him, elbow first. He made a choked, wheeing sound, stumbling, and the short man took the opportunity to sweep his bulky legs out from under him, stomping on his face as they ran off, a loud, satisfying crunch and the man’s roars of fury following them as they ran.

            They paused as they ran into an empty hallway. Connie leaned over, panting, and Sasha steadied herself against a wall. Levi put his hands on his hips, breathing heavily, catching his breath. _Damn, I’m getting old_.

            “What now?” Hange asked, clutching the stitch in their side. “Our cover’s blown. Do you think they saw our faces?”

            “A good, long look,” Levi panted. “We can figure out the technical shit later. We need to run before –”

            There was a crash from the end of the hall as the door was flung open, wood splintering from the force of being thrown into the wall. A young man stood in the doorway, breathing almost as heavily as they were. His gaze locked on them. “Found them!”

Almost instantly, doors began banging open from all sides. Levi flicked his wrists, knives shooting from the straps on his forearms into his hands. “Shit!” he breathed, moving to stand back-to-back with Hange, kicking a weaponless man in the chest, sending him stumbling into a group of his friends.

            “What _now_?” Sasha demanded, smacking another person on the head.

            “Don’t fucking die!” Connie banged another one on the back of the neck with a tray he’d snatched up from a table.

            “Very helpful, thanks!”

            Hange punched a man in the face. “Levi, we’ve gotta go!” they shouted.

            “I know!” Levi’s eyes flashed over the room. _Doors are a no-go – we’ll be dead before we even find the exit. The floorboards are sturdy, no way we can break through them. . . and, besides, I don’t really want any more broken bones_. He jumped back, turning in the air to kick a man in the face. His ankle gave a sharp twinge upon landing, and he winced. _Maybe_. . .

            Hange followed his gaze. Their eyes widened.

            Levi grabbed them, hefting them over his shoulder before they could say anything else. _Well, shit. I’m insane_.

            “Holy sh _iiiiiiittt_!” Hange screamed as Levi flung them out of the window.

            _We’re on the third floor_ , he thought as he turned back, taking the change to snap a man’s arm as he stared at the window, slack-jawed at the sight of the small man flinging his considerably larger comrade out of it (idiot). _But there was a pile of hay near one of the walls. It’s a one in four chance, but_ – he breathed a sigh of relief as a loud _whumph_ echoed from outside, and a cloud of hay needles flew into the air.

            “You’re fucking nuts!” Connie screeched as Levi grabbed him next. “Sir!”

            “Yup!” Levi threw Connie forwards, and the younger man fell out of the window, screaming like a little girl.

            Levi turned, fully intent to throw his remaining comrade out of the window before jumping himself, just in time to see a crazed, panicked-looking man dive at Sasha, a small revolver in his hand. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, despite knowing the shout would do no good. The bang echoed off the stone walls.

            “ _Braus_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out of dusty coffin* *screeches at sunlight*
> 
> ^I stole that from My Wayward Unicorn lol
> 
> So. . . hi! I'm back :}
> 
> This chapter was pretty short and rushed, but I just really wanted to get a chapter up, because, to quote my friend, we "STILL DON'T KNOW WHERE THE MEMORIES ARE SLEEPING" (all caps). Don't worry, the meaning behind the Sister Locationcreference will become clear veeeerrrryy soon (if it wasn't obvious already lol).


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a scary grandma who drinks Scotch from teacups and can't get Levi's name right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short and rushed, but passable (I hope)?
> 
> Finally got to add Lady Blanc :) I've been sitting on her (not literally) for a while, and I'm really glad that she's finally been introduced. Yes, she's an OC, but she's not going to be that big in the story, although she does hold many major plot points (the ultimte deus ex machina). And, yes, before you ask, she is named after the drug from Black Butler. Because why not.

“Keep pressure on the wound!” Hange ordered. Sasha gasped in pain, shaking, as Connie pressed his hands to her stomach, white shirt already soaked through with blood.

            “Do we take the bullet out?” he all but screeched. They were all crouched in an alley, not far from the Blooms’ headquarters. Levi would have preferred getting further away, but it had taken almost everything he had just to get the two of them out of the building alive (he had decided that tossing a bullet-ridden Sasha out of the window was probably a bad call, and had opted for the longer route).

            “It’s the only thing keeping the blood in right now,” Levi replied, hands red with Sasha’s blood. “Bad enough she was jostled all the way here, it’s a miracle no vital organs have been punctured yet.” Connie made a wheezing noise, looking pale.

            “I can’t do anything here, and I don’t know if she’ll make it back to the house,” Hange said. “Quick, take your shirt off!”

            “ _What?_ ”

            “We need something to soak up the blood and keep the bullet in. Now, so help me, _take off your shirt!_ ”

             “Fine!” Levi removed his hands. “Springer, keep the pressure.” He tugged irritably at the buttons, then, with an annoyed grunt, yanked at the fabric. It ripped, buttons popping off as he stripped the shirt into two long, wide shreds. Hange grabbed them, wrapping them around Sasha’s midriff.

            “It’s only a temporary solution, and by temporary, I mean temporary,” Hange said. “Like, half an hour, at the most, and that’s if every miracle in the universe is on our side.”

            “Well, given our track record, I highly doubt that’s going to happen.” Levi placed his hands over the makeshift bandage, which was beginning to bleed into red.

            “Are there any hospitals down here?” Hange asked.

            “Are you fucking insane?” Levi asked.

            “Okay, never mind,” Hange muttered. “Can the MPs let us use their base? They have medics, right?”

            “The nearest one’s almost an hour away, we’ll never get there in time!” Levi hissed. Sasha made a noise of pain, and Levi’s brow furrowed. “Shit, hold on, Braus.” He glanced at Connie. “Springer, cloak!” He nodded, ashen-faced, and quickly stripped off the rough, wool cloak and wrapped it around Sasha’s middle. “Tighter!” _At least the shitty material will soak up the blood_.

            “Is there anyone?” Hange was beginning to look panicked. “I can’t do anything without tools, Levi! Or alcohol, at least! _Clean_ alcohol, Jesus freckled Christ, Levi!” they added as the short man opened his mouth.

            “Shit, I don’t know!” Levi hissed, pressing down harder as Sasha coughed, a new flood of red soaking through his fingers. “People down here aren’t exactly concerned with healthcare! So, unless you can find some grandma who just happens to know how to safely remove a bullet –” he stopped.

            “Grandma with medic skills?!” Connie prompted, visibly on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

            “Well, shit,” Levi said. “Connie, pick up Sasha – and be gentle, Baldy. Hange, go back to the house.”  
            “What?” they demanded. “Thought of a convenient savior?”

            “A deus ex fucking machina.”

 

Levi barged into the brothel, Connie charging after him, Sasha in his arms. “Lady Blanc!” he bellowed. “I need Lady Blanc, _now_!”

            “Who’re you?!” the young man behind the counter, who had been chatting amiably with a large-bosomed woman, was pale and shaking. He reached under the counter, whipping out a rifle and aiming it at them, thin arms quivering. “I – I’ll shoot! Swear!”

            “Let us see Lady Blanc!” Levi shouted. A few of the women lounging around squealed, and one skittered to the back of the room in terror. _Oh, right. We’re covered with blood and carrying a wounded teenager. And I’m shirtless. Probably should have thought of that earlier_. “She’s still alive, right?”

            “You didn’t think to check that _before_ we ran here?!” Connie screeched.

            “Yeah, Madam’s still kickin’,” an older woman, accent almost as heavy as her makeup, stood cautiously, reaching between the voluminous folds of her skirt. Levi heard the sound of a dull knife being unsheathed. “What d’you want with her?”

            “Don’t act like this doesn’t happen all the time!” Levi snarled, and a few more women flinched. “I’m an old pal, alright? Now, just tell Lady Blanc we’ve got a girl who needs serious medical attention, and –”

            “Like we’d trust you!” a younger woman yelped, backing away.

            “Listen, lady, we’re military, got it?!” Connie shouted. Levi froze, eyes widening, as the clicks of a dozen guns rang through the room. “And my girlfriend’s gonna bleed out, so if you wanna save your own hides –!”

            “Connie, shut up,” Levi hissed as the young man from behind the counter began edging forwards, teeth grit, hands on his gun shaking.

            “We ain’t doin’ nothing illegal here!” he yelled. “An – an’ this here’s trespassin’! So out ya go!”

            “Didn’t you hear us?” Connie yelled. “Girlfriend! Bullet! Losing blood –”

            The young man bearing the rifle suddenly yelped, dropping the gun and grabbing his head. More than a few people winced, some rubbing their own skulls empathetically, as the gnarled head of the wooden knocking stick retreated, a dull thud ringing through the room from when it’d knocked the man’s head sharply.

            “Let me see,” there was a shuffling noise as an old woman, hair as white as her name, ambled forwards, tail of her dress dragging on the floor.

            “Madam –!” a younger woman protested.

            “Oh, can it, you,” she snapped, standing in front of Connie. She tutted as she looked at Sasha. “Marleen, bring the boy and his girl up to my rooms. Carly, heat a knife.” (Connie, at this point, was looking seconds away from a nervous breakdown). “And _you_ ,” her gaze swiveled to Levi. “Are going to bring the rest of your crew here.”

            “I don’t have –” Levi began.

            “Don’t even bother lying to me, young man,” the old woman snapped as a small girl with blond ringlets led Connie upstairs. “Now, go.” And, with one more look promising eternal torment, she swept upstairs.

 

Lady Blanc wiped her hands clean with a wet towel as two girls laid Sasha gently on a chaise lounge, a crisp white bandage wrapped over her fresh stitches. Levi leaned against a wall, arms crossed, while the rest of the Scouts sat awkwardly on a long couch (Mikasa was patting Connie on the bag as he wheezed into a paper bag).

            “Thank you,” Levi said grudgingly as the woman sat primly down in an armchair, resting her hands on her walking stick. Despite her age, Lady Blanc was a true sight to behold – silver hair pinned up in a neat bun tighter than Erwin’s asshole, long dress that, if it weren’t for the loosened weave and faded colors, could have passed for that of a noble lady’s, high, sharp cheekbones that Levi had once attempted to cut bread on (he was still convinced that it could have worked if she hadn’t whacked him on the head with the infamous walking stick), and a pinched, narrow face, dark, sunken eyes staring coldly out at them.

            “Well, this is awkward,” Hange cleared their throat. “Thank you very much, ma’am. I’m –“

            “I know who you are,” Lady Blanc’s voice was cool, and the recruits all shivered, as if it were a physical, tangible thing. “Squad Leader Hange Zoë of the Survey Corps, correct?”

             Levi’s grip on his biceps tightened, and Mikasa stilled in her seat, hand hovering over Connie’s back.

            “Oh, don’t act so scared,” one of the girls walked over, a tray in her hand, and she took a china cup full of what Levi was ninety-nine point nine percent sure was not tea, sipping it primly, pinkie hovering off the handle. “I’m fully aware of what this little bandit’s been doing during his time on the surface.” Connie’s bag burst as Mikasa’s hand swung forwards, slamming into the bald boy and sending him tumbling off the seat. Jean broke into a fit of coughing, stifling a laugh, and Levi’s eyebrow twitched.

            “‘Little bandit’?” Even Armin looked like he was ready to giggle.

            “And I suppose you haven’t told them a word about me,” Lady Blanc looked almost offended as she set the empty cup down. A girl began pouring amber liquid into it from the teapot. “Scotch?” she offered.

            “They’re underage,” Levi said.

            “Who drinks alcohol from a teacup?” Eren muttered to Jean.

            “Teacup?” the two teens jumped. Levi stifled a snicker. The woman’s hearing was certainly sharp as ever. “My word, you’ve corrupted them, Riley.”

            “Levi,” Levi corrected with a long-suffering sigh. “And it _is_ for tea, ma’am.”

            “Cheeky,” she sniffed. “Well, I know about _that_ one,” she nodded at Hange, who seemed rather pleased to be acknowledged by someone other than the fandom. “But who are the rugrats?”

            Levi opened his mouth, but was interrupted as Mikasa stood up, bending over in a slight bow. “Warrior Goddess Athena, please bow down,” she said before sitting down again.

            Levi’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair as Jean stood up, nodding respectfully at the old woman. “Resident Horseface, pleased to meet you.”

            “Avatar the Last Airbender,” Connie introduced, face still covered with dust from the floor.

            “Blonde Coconut, will strategize you to death,” Armin smiled.

            “Angry German,” Eren stated. “And you’ve already met Potato,” he added, gesturing at Sasha.

            Lady Blanc looked unimpressed, and Levi turned slowly to glare at Hange. “You gave them codenames,” he accused.

            “They’re perfect,” they defended.

            Levi wrestled for a moment between stabbing them and curling up in a corner to cry, but simply decided to turn and gesture to the prim old lady. “This,” he said. “Is Lady Blanc. Resident Underground grandma.”

            “Oh, please,” Lady Blanc sniffed, downing another cup of Scotch. “Do not liken me to those lifeless grannies shuffling around on their walkers, with their brownies and cheek-pinching –”

            “You once walked into the middle of a turf war to deliver snacks,” Levi monotoned.

            “Those boys were so uncouth,” she dipped a biscuit in the Scotch. “And it was just some cookies.”

            “You rang a little bell and made them line up and play nice.”

            Hange cleared their throat. Levi rolled his eyes.

            “Whatever,” he sat down next to them, and everybody shuffled over to accommodate him (it was a really long couch) – not that they needed to make much room.

            “Well, thank you,” Hange said. “We’re really grateful. I don’t know what we could have done without –”

            “What are you doing down here?” Lady Blanc steamrolled over her, speaking to Levi. “Last I saw, you were being dragged up by the Military Police and flipping everybody you passed the bird. And, next thing I know, everybody’s blabbing about some Captain Eli who’s apparently humanity’s best weapon.” Eren looked slightly affronted at that.

            “Levi,” Levi corrected again. “And, well. . . we may have a slight problem on the surface that could be related to the Underground.”

            Lady Blanc raised a delicate eyebrow, leaning forwards, hands resting on her hand. “I’m listening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of humor to lighten the burden of Chapter 115 ༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a huge plot point is dropped and the fourth wall is kicked in yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short one, here! There's a bunch more I wanted to put in it, but I just really wanted to end the chapter on that point, since it seemed so perfect. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon!
> 
> Also, I just got back from a school trip to Belize! It was honestly a great experience, and I got to do loads of stuff I never would have on normal vacation :) I also lost a chunk of my finger to a hermit crab ( ՞ਊ՞) I'm not even kidding, turn it a bit and there's a little dip in it.
> 
> And that's why you don't pick up giant walking shells, kids.
> 
> (I got hermit crabs banned)

“You’re wasting your time,” Lady Blanc broke in halfway through the story. Hange looked rather put off.

            “But we haven’t even reached the rising action –”

            “It’s not the Blooms,” Lady Blanc said. “I can tell you this for certain.”

            “So Sasha got shot for nothing?” Connie looked torn between furious and horrified.

            “No, not quite,” Hange said quickly. “Now we know for sure where _not_ to look.” Connie was still visibly upset. “Lady Blanc, how can you be certain –"

            “They’re influential bastards,” Lady Blanc interrupted. “And annoying, cocksure idiots. But even they don’t have the resources to pull something like what you’re describing.”

            “Speaking of,” Armin said slowly. “What are we describing, Squad Leader?”

            “Hah?”

            “I like you, boy.” Lady Blanc inclined her teacup at him, some alcohol sloshing over the rim (Levi’s nose wrinkled visibly). “Asking the right questions. And stop scowling, Elijah. You may have aged like a model so far, but those wrinkles are going to sneak up on you.”

            “ _Levi_. And you would know,” Levi grumbled. Then winced as the walking stick knocked on his temple.

            “Now,” Lady Blanc rested the walking stick against the side of her chair. “I’m not strictly supposed to give out information – middleman, you understand? – but I make exceptions for myself when the information begins to close in on my business.” She leaned forwards slightly, and everybody else leaned towards her. “The Military Police patrols have been less and less around here lately. Now, normally, that would be good for business, but I don’t run things like that,” she wagged her finger, and her listeners nodded along, following the movement of the digit with their eyes. “I’ve known most of the big players down here since they were kicking in their mama’s bellies, and I’ve been close to some of those soldier’s daddies, if you understand the implication.”

            “Implication understood,” Hange nodded quickly.

            “Smart one, you. Now, see, that’s usually enough to earn me some patrols who actually do their jobs, no shady business or uppity self-importance involved. But they’ve vanished lately – and they vanished _fast_. There one day, gone the next. You could practically hear the Western music and see the tumbleweeds.”

            “Do you think that the MPs decided it was too dangerous to keep sending soldiers when they kept disappearing?” Jean said.

            “No,” Levi frowned. “More likely than not, they were snatched. This sounds large-scale, though. . . way bigger than what was happening before.”

            “More people?” Mikasa suggested.

            “I have a feeling it’s more than that,” Levi stood up, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “This. . . I can’t remember anything like this happening before.”

            Lady Blanc’s frown deepened by a margin. “I see.”

            Levi raised an eyebrow, but the old woman had already looked away. “Whatever you’re doing, you better make it fast,” she told Hange. “Word on the street is that an angry midget’s brought a group of overpowered nutcases down here, and he’s knifing everybody he sees. Won’t take long for people to put two and two together – more people remember you than you think,” she added, turning back to Levi.

            His expression darkened slightly. “They know where their loyalties lie,” he said simply.

            “Six years is a long time.”

            Levi held her gaze for a moment longer before turning away. “Whatever,” he sighed. “How’s Sasha?”

            Lady Blanc glanced at the girl sponging Sasha’s forehead in the corner, who nodded at the older woman. “Not bad. The bullet didn’t touch anything vital – didn’t get anywhere close, actually – and she’s been stitched up nice and tidy. The most you need to worry about now is keeping the wound closed and making sure she doesn’t get a fever.” Hange nodded. “You want to bring her back to your base.” A statement, not a question.

            Levi glanced at Hange, who shrugged. _It’s your turf_ , their eyes read.

            “I’d like to, yeah,” Levi said. “Not that the idea of sleeping with shitty glasses and the whole fucking peanut gallery on a stupidly long couch isn’t everything I’ve ever dreamed of, but I’d feel better if we were near the gear.”

            Hange nodded their agreement. “We should be able to get there through side alleys undetected.”

            Lady Blanc observed them, then, slowly, nodded. “Whatever warms your ass. You two,” she snapped at Eren and Jean, who quickly straightened. “Big, strong idiots with their hearts on their sleeves. Go help Leo with the girl.”

            “ _Levi!_ ”

            “You, crazy-face,” Lady Blanc seized Hange’s sleeve as they walked past. “A word?”

            Hange frowned, but, nevertheless, sat down in front of her. “What is it, ma’am?”

            “Listen,” Lady Blanc said, voice low. “I know I said you needed to make your business down here fast, but I meant it. You need to figure out what’s happening as soon as you can, and get the hell out of here. Go back to Wall Rose, or something – the Titans would be safer than what you’re dealing with.”

            “What do you mean?” Hange asked, voice hushed. “Do you _know_ what’s going on?”

            The woman’s eyes shifted to the side, where Levi was shouting at Eren and Jean, instructing them on how to carry Sasha without ripping a new hole in her abdomen while Connie stood to the side, littering the ground with his fingernails. “No details,” she said. “Very, very general. To the point where knowing nothing might make more sense. But _he_ knows.”

            Hange immediately knew who she meant. “ _Levi?_ ” they hissed. “But he’d never hold back that sort of information! And he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible! Besides, he said he didn’t know of anything like this happening before.”

            “No,” Lady Blanc tapped Hange’s interlocked fingers with her walking stick. “No. He said he didn’t _remember_.”

            Hange stared for a second, but, then, his eyes widened. “Wait, are you saying –”

            But the old woman had already swept away.

 

Levi dropped a bucket of water next to Connie and tossed him a rag.

            “Keep her cool,” he nodded at Sasha, who lay on the couch, eyes closed, breathing softly. Connie nodded, kneeling next to her on the ground, a bottle of brandy within arms’ reach. Levi watched as he lifted the rag and began gently sponging her forehead, then turned back towards the table.

            Hange and Armin were in the midst of an intense debate, the rest of the squad sitting nearby, listening. “— remember?” Levi caught the last bit of Armin’s sentence as he approached them.

            “Remember what?” Levi sat down.

            “Nothing,” Eren said, a bit too quickly.

            “Lady Blanc just mentioned something a bit weird, that’s all,” Hange said.

            “Half the shit that comes out of that hole in her face is shit,” Levi grumbled, dragging a teacup full of watered-down whisky (Eren had dug a mostly full bottle out of a drawer) over the tabletop. “It’s like her whole face is a giant ass, and her mouth’s the asshole.”

            Eren looked mildly disturbed, and Hange whacked him. “That’s not a very nice thing to say about your gansta grandma,” they chided.

            “Not my fucking grandma.”

            “Anyways,” Armin broke in. “We still need to think of who it could be. We’ve already ruled out a series of coincidences and the Blooms, and I can’t think of anything else that could be possible, going off what we know.”

            “Are you _sure_ you don’t know anything?” Hange asked.

            “I want to get out of this dump as soon as possible, thank you very much. I’ve told you everything I know.”

            Hange still looked unconvinced but nodded. “Fine.”

            “I had a thought,” Armin said hesitantly. “It’s risky and likely to fail – and we’re probably going to die, but, you know, that happens literally every episode, unless it’s a filler or flashback – but it’s the best I can think of right now.”

            “Don’t discredit it before we’ve heard it,” Mikasa said. “Besides, your last few insane ideas have gotten us out of a few scrapes.”

            “At least your grand plan won’t involve chucking people out of windows,” Hange added cheerfully.

            “The fuck was that, four-eyes?”

            “What if,” Armin said. “One of us pretended to be an MP? From what Lady Blanc said, it sounds like there have been more kidnappings than usual lately, and less patrols.”

            “The MPs want to keep their losses to a minimum,” Hange nodded.

            “You actually can’t blame them, this time,” Jean said. “Morally, it might be seen as wrong, since that means, theoretically, crime would skyrocket – but they never really did their jobs in the first place, so that’s not much of a problem.” Levi hummed, nodding. “And they know we’re down here, so there’s no real need for them to investigate, anyways.”

            “It also helps with _our_ investigation,” Levi said. “There’s less bait for the kidnappers to grab, and less people to get in our way.”

            “The last thing to think of is who we choose,” Armin said. “It’d probably be best for it to be someone younger – less hassle for the kidnappers to grab, right?”

            “That rules out Hange,” Mikasa said.

            “And you,” Eren pointed out. She frowned. “You’re Asian,” he said. “ _And_ you’ve got the Ackerman looks. There’s no way they won’t notice.”

            “Eren’s right,” Armin said. “It’s best for the person to look as unremarkable as possible – just another face in the crowd.”

            “I guess that rules out the Captain and Eren,” Jean said. “They’re both way too well-known, and the Captain’s got the same Ackerman thing going for him.”

            “I should probably stay back here,” Connie said hesitantly from the ground. “Not that I don’t want to do it, but I’d feel more comfortable being here with Sasha.”

            “It’s fine, we get it,” Hange said. “Now that just leaves you two. . .”

            “It should probably the person with the better physical prowess,” Levi said. “Just in case.”

            Armin laughed weakly. “Guess I’m out, then,” he said. “I wasn’t even in the top ten. . .”

            Everybody’s eyes turned to Jean.

            He groaned. “Again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that amnesia hints I smell? *wink wink nudge nudge*
> 
> A m I b e i n g d i s c r e e t e n o u g h
> 
> Also, poor Jean. I should be arrested for equestrian cruelty.


	9. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which little to no action occurs and Levi has a headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really pissed today, because my school's musical (Once On This Island) was just canceled because a bunch of little fucking bitches couldn't come to rehearsal and nobody knew their fucking lines. I was Papa Ge (god of death, main antagonist), too.
> 
> afjewgtqpowfq

Hange sighed, head resting on their arms as they lay on their stomach, peering down the side of the building at Jean as he leaned against the alley wall. “Feels like we’ve been here forever,” they commented.

            Eren huffed. “It’s like we’ve been waiting for a really slow teenager to update some sort of pathetic attempt at the story or something.”

            “Shut up,” Levi suddenly muttered, and they glanced at him. “Someone’s coming.”

 

Jean coughed, taking the cigarette out from beneath his lips and waved his hand in front of his face, wrinkling his nose, as a cloud of smoke billowed from his mouth. He frowned, shifting his weight slightly, feeling the unfamiliar, stiff straps of the unused Military Police ODM chaff against him.

            He scowled, reluctantly sticking the rolled paper back in his mouth, letting it smolder while he breathed in and out from his nose, clenching the end of the fag between his teeth.

            “Here,” Levi had said, slapping the pack into his palm.

            “What –”

            “All the MP rookies smoke down here – they think it makes them look cool. It’ll also give you an excuse to stand in the alley for no particular reason.”

            Jean removed the fag again, hacking out another cloud of smoke. Levi had given him quick run-down on how to hold it between his lips and let it burn itself out without actually inhaling any smoke, but he’s still breathed in a huge cloud when he first lit it. _Stupid smelly deathsticks._

            “Oi.” He jumped, letting out a completely justified squeak as someone spoke from behind him. “Got a light?”

            A tall, thin man was leaned against the wall next to him (When had _he_ showed up?), eyeing the cigarette between Jean’s lips. He twirled one of his own between thin, bony fingers.

            “Uh, sure,” Jean coughed, reaching into the chest pocket of his jacket (Getting the MP uniform had been surprisingly easy – the MP on duty had been asleep when they’d walked into headquarters, and they hadn’t encountered a single person while they ~~looted~~ searched the storeroom for a uniform to, to quote Levi, “borrow without their knowledge or consent for a completely justified reason for an undetermined period of time’). The man hummed his thanks as he leaned forwards, Jean striking the match and igniting the tip of the roll.

            The man sighed in satisfaction, inhaling deeply (Jean shuddered as the smoke billowed back out from his nostrils). “So, what brings a nice lad like yourself down ‘ere?”

            “Er,” Jean shifted his cloak, showing the man the green unicorn emblazoned over his heart. “I’m on duty.”

            The man’s expression changed: first, being shot over by a flash of surprise, then his eyes lighting up in what Jean could only describe as unimaginable glee, nerve-wracking insanity, or Sasha spotting the last potato. The next moment, cold disgust covered his face. “Looks like it,” he removed the fag, then, with a loud hacking noise, spat on the ground. Jean repressed a shudder as the thick phlegm splattered near his boots. “‘Pologies, _officer_.” He turned, puffing out clouds of smoke as he walked back down the alley, disappearing into the darkness.

            Jean scowled, leaning back against the wall. _Ass_. He scratched at the back of his neck, dropping the cigarette and crushing it with the heel of his boot. _Will this really work? Or are we really so unlucky that the day we decide to take action’s the day they decide to stop bodysnatching_ –

            A sharp pain in the side of his neck cut off his thoughts and he let out a small, choked gasp as someone grabbed his face, covering his mouth. He felt the metal of a needle slide out from his neck as his vision blurred, world spinning. He crumpled, knees going weak as his eyes slid shut.

            _Damn it_. . . he collapsed on the ground, eyes sliding shut. _This must be. . . what Eren feels like_.

 

“Bingo,” Eren inhaled sharply. “The stallion has departed! I repeat, the stallion has departed!”

            Levi watched, eyes narrowed, as the man dropped the syringe and grabbed Jean. “Levi,” Mikasa hissed. “Come on, let’s grab him!”

            “No,” Levi muttered, trying to ignore the dull throbbing behind his eyes – _shit_ , he really needed to start getting some sleep.

            “What?” Eren looked at him. “But the guy’s _right there_ –!”

            “There’s no guarantee we’ll be able to find out what we need to know if we grab him now,” Levi hissed. “This is our shot – we’ll follow him. We’ll grab Jean the moment anything feels off,” he added as Mikasa frowned.

            She bit her lip, but nodded. Levi stood, deploying his ODM as he shot off after the man, who’d dragged the unconscious Jean down to the end of the alley. Levi grabbed on to the edge of a window, hanging off the side of the wall, watching as Jean was tossed into a man-drawn cart – the Underground was no place to keep horses, and, even if there were any of the animals available, they’d be too expensive for any locals to use. Besides, Levi wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep Eren from snickering if they saw the horsefaced boy being dragged away by an equestrian (Oh, god, he could practically _hear_ the goads: “Hey, horseface, how was your trip with your cousin?).

            They followed, staying a safe distance behind, moving quietly, not uttering a single word as they swung after the man (who was moving surprisingly quickly, considering that Jean as no pixie). Levi felt a wave of déjà vu with every second he spent in the air – it was all so _familiar_. The stale, rotting smell of the air, the light ruffling of his hair as he soared through the windless cavern, the crumbling of stone as his anchors hooked into the sides of the old, decrepit buildings. It was by no means nostalgic, comforting, or anything else associated with home, happiness, or emotion – except, perhaps, the most severe discomfort he’d ever felt since that one time he’d tried to use poison ivy as toilet paper, and a strange sense of foreboding.

            Yeah, he was disturbed. Ask anyone.

            He winced as he shot between two buildings. _What the_ fuck _. . ._ He grit his teeth as his head gave a particularly painful throb. _Piece of shit skull_.

            “Levi,” Armin muttered as they stopped. The man with the wagon had stopped in front of a building, speaking in hushed tones to a large, bulky man standing in front of the door, his berth almost completely blocking it. The large man nodded, handing the kidnapper an envelope. The man glanced inside and nodded, making a hat-tipping motion at the man before dumping Jean unceremoniously at the larger man’s feet and walking off, dragging the cart behind him, whistling merrily.

            “Paid kidnapping?” Hange muttered.

            “Looks like it.” Levi watched as the larger man knocked on the door. It slid open, and another man stepped out – taller than Levi, but shorter than Hange. He had a quick exchange with the man and, after giving Jean a quick once-over, nodded and grabbed him, dragging him inside.

            “Now,” Levi said as the man made to close the door again. “Now we go.”

 

Getting in had been easy – Levi and Mikasa had jumped the hulking figure, Mikasa sweeping his legs out from underneath him and Levi clambering up to perch on his shoulders, knocking him out with a swift blow to the head. “Shitty security,” Levi had declared, leaping nimbly off his unconscious form as he fell to the ground.

            Hange nudged the door with their toes, and it swung open. “Agreed.”

            Levi stuck the handles of his gear beneath his cloak. “Well,” he said. “Ready for shit to go down?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thiswassoshortohmygodimsorry


	10. X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some plot actually happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very short, but XI will be longer!

_“You’re nuts,” Farlan declared. “I don’t care how good you are, even this is too much for you to handle.”_

_“Do you have any better ideas?” Levi snarled, tugging his ODM belts tighter._

_“It’s too risky!” Farlan protested. “We’ll get the cash some other way –”_

_“Jason won’t wait,” Levi tugged his cloak on over the ODM. “I can take a couple of goons.”_

_“This isn’t just a couple of goons!” Farlan yelled, standing up. “We don’t know who these guys are, and this job is the shadiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard –”_

_“There’s nothing we can do about that,” Levi said, checking his gas. “There’s no other way to get that much money that quickly._

_“It’s not like they’ll be able to do anything to me.”_

 

Levi slipped through the dark hallways, scanning the empty walls. “No door, no windows, no people,” he muttered. “What the fuck?”

            Mikasa ran her hand over the wall. “No cracks, either,” she said quietly. “It’s just a long hallway.”

            “It looks completely normal from the outside,” Hange said. “But –”

            “More to the matter,” Armin said. “Where did Jean go?”

            The Scouts swivelled their heads around, staring around the ridiculously narrow hall. “You’re right,” Mikasa realized. “But where –”

            “Maybe Jean evolved from a horse to a pegasus and flew away,” Eren suggested. “Like a Pokémon.”

            “A what, now?”

            “Anyway, I can’t think of any way that the guy could have dragged an unconscious Jean all the way down this hall without us seeing him,” Hange said. “And our handsome stallion’s no pixie –”

            “Unlike somebody else,” Mikasa jibed, and Levi glared at her.

            “Calm down, children,” Hange said. “Damn, this is tough. . .” their eyes suddenly lit up, and they dropped to the ground, pawing at the floor.

            “What the fuck, four-eyes?” Levi leapt back in disgust as Hange tore away at the accumulated dirt and dust on the ground.

            “No, no, no,” Hange scowled, kicking themselves further along down the hallway in a fashion that reminded Levi of swimming on land, still running their hands over the dirt. “Not here!”

            “What the _fuck_?”

            “There’s gotta be a trapdoor or something!” Hange said. “Help me look!”

            Mikasa began smacking the walls with her sword, and Eren ran after Hange, flopping down next to them and land-swimming along the ground with them. Levi sighed, dragging his hands along the wall opposite Mikasa (who was attacking the walls with such ferocity and noise that Levi was surprised that no one had come running) (What had that wall ever done to her? She was bashing it as if it had just kicked her grandmother).

            “Um, guys?”

            “Come on, Eren! There’s gotta be a keyring or something!”

            “Found one! Oh, wait, no – that’s a dead rat.”

            “ _OhmyfuckinggodkeepthatthingawayfrommeorIsweartogodJaeger_ –”

            “Mikasa! You broke the wall!”

            “There’s nothing behind it.”

            “Guys?”

            “Holy shit, there’s a skull here.”

            “ _Put it down!_ ”

            “Guys!”

            The other four whirled around to stare at Armin, who hadn’t moved. Wordlessly, he pointed up to the ceiling. Everybody else followed his finger, staring at the very obvious trapdoor on the ceiling.

            “Oh.”

 

Levi closed the trapdoor slowly, wincing slightly as it shut with a _thud_. The wood was thick and sturdy, which he was glad for, as it had muffled their previous ruckus, but, now that they were in the belly of the beast, he was a bit more inclined to, as he put it most eloquently, shut the fuck up.

            Eren fumbled with his bag for a bit, finally pulling out a flashlight. Hange whistled lowly as he shone the light around the room. “Damn,” they muttered, eyeing the walls. “Is this intense or what?”

            Levi glanced up. Rows upon rows of hooks ran along the walls of the room, countless belts hanging off of them. ODM boxes were stacked neatly along the walls beneath them, crates full of gas mechanics and cannisters pushed off to the side.

            Mikasa walked over to one of the walls, peering through the forest of belts. “Here’s the window,” she said, weaving her hand through the leather. “But the shutters have been barred and painted shut.”

            Armin was inspecting one of the ODM sets. “These’ve been used before,” he said, drawing out a blade from one of the boxes and turning it over in the light from Eren’s torch. “Not much, though.”

            “These, too,” Hange had been sifting through the gas mechanics in the boxes. “Most of them seem to be pretty well-worn.” They picked up a gas cannister, tapping it. “Half full, I’d say.”

            “Must be the ones taken from the missing soldiers,” Levi said. There was a desk squeezed into the one corner of the room, and he walked over to it. “Eren, shine a light here, will you?”

            The Shifter turned the beam of light towards Levi, and he frowned at the thick ledger on the desk. He flipped through a few pages. “These are. . . military profiles,” he said. “Looks like they were copied out from the official registry in Sina.”

            Hange walked over to stand next to him, peering at the pages. “Some’ve been crossed out,” they said, tapping the lists of names. “Different marking, too. . . this one’s been crossed out entirely, and this one’s got a check mark.”

            Levi flipped through the copied ledger and nearly jumped all the way back to the surface in shock. His own face was staring moodily back up at him from the page. He recognized the image – Erwin had forced him to sit down for a portrait artist, almost half a year after his first expedition, to have his image put into the archives. His first name, height, and presumed birthdate were all printed beneath it, along with his rank (which had been crossed out a few times before they’d finally settled on Captain).

            “Well, would you look at this handsome chap?” but even Hange sounded unsettled.

            There was a scribbled not in the corner of the page. Levi squinted at it. “ _Born and raised Underground_ ,” he muttered. “ _Previous encounters_ –” his eyes widened. “What the fuck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le gasp!
> 
> _Story!_


	11. XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which ~~Josh Grelle~~ Armin shows off his talents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that Armin's English voice actor (Josh Grelle) actually voiced Tokoyami from BNHA? I mean, boi.

_“Here.” Levi upturned the bag, sending knives and guns scattering over the table. Hange sighed, massaging their nose as Connie leapt back with a screech, narrowly avoiding impaling himself with a small harpoon that spun across the wooden surface._

_“What are these for, Levi?” Armin asked._

_Levi fixed him with an unimpressed look strongly resembling a dead fish. “I want you to give yourself manicures, Arlert. They’re for self-defense,_ obviously _.”_

_“But we have ODM,” Sasha pointed out, taking a bite of an apple._

_Quick as a flash, Levi had a curved blade up to her throat. Sasha blinked, the apple falling from her hand._

_“You won’t always have ODM,” he said, tossing the blade to her, she fumbled, catching it by the handle. “These are easier to conceal, and quicker for moving. You’ve all done combat training before, right?”_

_They exchanged glances. Jean began whistling innocently while Armin twiddled his thumbs awkwardly, not meeting Levi’s gaze, and Eren cleared his throat._

_Levi groaned. “You shits are gonna drive me to an early grave. Whatever,” he picked up a revolver and tossed it to Hange, who caught it, spinning it on their finger and grinning. “Just keep these on hand, got it?”_

_“Uh, Levi –” Armin began as he slammed a handgun and sheathed dagger in his hand._

_“Hm?” he glanced up as he handed Mikasa a switchblade._

_“We’ve only ever been trained with rifles. . .”_

_Levi stared at him, exasperated. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”_

 

Jean woke with a groan, head throbbing. He blinked a few times before realizing that, no, he had not gone blind, but, rather, was lying in a completely dark room. He waited for his eyes to adjust for the light, something that took significantly longer than it should have, considering that there was little to no light in the room.

            He tried to sit up, but fell almost immediately on his face. Thick, rough ropes chapped his wrists, and there were similar bindings around his ankles. He tried to open his mouth, but was encountered with the rough, disgusting taste of a cloth shoved in his mouth.

            He shifted until he was finally able to sit. _What now?_ he thought. He moved his fingers, reaching for the ropes. _Shit – that’s a Connie knot. Doubt even the Captain could undo that_.

            He shifted again, and gasped against the gag in pain – a small, sharp pain had sliced into his ankle.

            _Wait!_ His eyes widened in the darkness. _What was that the Captain said. . . a deus ex machina?_

            With no small effort, he managed to kick his boot off. _Bazinga!_ He grit is teeth, stretching his legs out for the boot. _Son of a_ – he squawked, muffled by the gag, as he fell, landing on his back. _Shit_.

 

“We’re all in here,” Armin said, flipping through the thick ledger. “It does seem like they have the profiles of every living soldier from the past twenty years. But. . .” he frowned. “There are only a few of them with notes. MPs, mostly, mainly the officers, and a few cadets. The Commander’s in here too –”

            Hange snorted as they read the note. “ _Insanely smart, probably insane too_. Got that right, they did.”

            “There are a few Garrison soldiers, too,” Armin continued. “But the Captain’s the only one with this.” He tapped the noted reading _Previous encounters_.

            “Well I don’t have a single fucking clue what that means,” Levi said. “This is the first time I’ve heard of anything like this.”

            “Maybe it’s from your time living here,” Mikasa suggested, peering over the top of his head.

            “I think I’d remember a creepy-ass group like this,” Levi snorted.

            Armin and Hange exchanged glances, Eren shuffled, and Mikasa cleared her throat. “Well –”

“LadyBlancsaidsomethingweirdandIthinkyoumighthaveamnesiaandknowmoreaboutthisgroupthanyouormeknowandyou’resubconsciouslyholdingitbackbecauseofsomesortofbadencounterandthat’swhatthenote’saboutohmygodI’msosorryIdon’tthinkIwassupposedtotellyoupleasedon’ttellLadyBlanc,” Hange said in a single breath.

            Levi blinked. “What.”

            Mikasa sighed, and Armin banged his head on the table while Eren shook his head furiously. “No, wait, I want to hear this,” Levi said, raising a hand. “Lady Blanc said _what_ , now? And did you say amnesia?”

            Hange cleared their throat. “Trauma sometimes –”

            “I know how it fucking works,” Levi snapped. “What _exactly_ did she –“

            _Crash!_

 

Jean crowed through the gag in victory as he finally managed to grab the small, sharp-bladed knife he’d shoved into his boot. _Huzzah!_ He shifted, flipping it in his hands so that the edge of the blade was resting against his bonds and, slowly, began dragging it back and forth. The metal tore through the fibers at a torturous pace, the threads of the harsh rope snapping. Finally, _finally_ , he was able to snap the ropes.

            He sighed, rubbing his chaffed wrists, and tugged the gag from his mouth, wincing as drool ran down his chin and the wet fabric landed on the ground with a _splat_. _Oh, god, the Captain’s rubbing off on me_.

            He made quick work off his ankles before standing, wincing slightly at the cramping pain in his muscles. _Shit, how long was I out?_ He took a step. _What is this –?_

            “Shit!” he stumbled as his foot caught onto something and he stumbled, falling, once again, to the ground with a loud crash.

            “Son of a deformed eggplant!” he groaned, sitting up, feeling his scraped palms. “What the hell was that?”

            The _thing_ he’d tripped over suddenly jerked, something hard knocking into his shin. He swore, grabbing it.

            His eyes widened a he felt over the large, bulky, surprisingly soft object. “What the hell?”

 

The Scouts froze.

            “Is there someone else here?” Hange asked, voice barely above a whisper.

            Loud swearing exploded through the building, and the soldiers stiffened.

            “What was that?” someone asked from outside.

            “Oi, you, check it out!” The creak of floorboards were heard outside, followed by approaching footsteps. “Shit, what happened to this wall?”

            Armin dropped the ledger back on the desk, slamming the cover back on, and his hands flew to his mouth at the resulting bang. Hange fumbled with the ODM mechanic in her hand, and Mikasa quickly fumbled with the belts, shoving them into place as Levi whirled around in the centre of the room, looking for a place to hide.

            “Shit!” he hissed, eyes falling on the desk and crates. “Shit, shit, _shit!_ ” he began shoving the heavy boxes around, gesturing at the other Scouts to hide squat behind them, piling more crates above them, covering the gaps.

            The door rattled in the frame, and Levi privately thanked the goddesses that he’d remembered to lock it. “Damn,” somebody outside cursed. There was a jingling of keys, and Levi hurriedly waved his hands, gesturing at Hange to climb beneath the desk.

            There was a click in the door and Levi inhaled sharply, grabbing Mikasa’s hand and deploying his ODM, attaching himself to the ceiling (thankfully, the girl followed his lead – it would have been rather unfortunate if she hadn’t).

            Both soldiers held their breaths as the door swung open and the man stepped into the room. The man, surprisingly scrawny, but well-built, swiveled his head around, a large butcher’s knife in one hand, piggy eyes narrowed. Levi suddenly inhaled sharply, a wave of vertigo making the room spin. Mikasa’s hand was over his mouth in an instant, staring at him, eyes wide incredulously.

            The man froze, eyes narrowing further as he continued turning in circle in a motion that would have been hilarious if not for their current predicament (In the moment, he looked less like a thug and more like a poorly-dressed ballerina) (He was spinning rather well – perhaps it was time to consider a career change). In the end, he seemed to deem that the noise he’d heard was just the AC acting up (never mind that ACs hadn’t even been invented yet, and, even if they did exist, they most certainly wouldn’t have been stuck in the Underground). He sniffed loudly, barely casting a glance at the boxes stacked near the desk and turning around.

            The door shut with a click behind him, and both Levi and Mikasa released sighs of relief. “What the hell was that about?” Mikasa demanded.

            Levi shrugged, then found, to his embarrassment, that he was shaking like a leaf. “Dunno.”

            The two Scouts landed on the ground, and a crate shifted, Hange peeking out over the top. “He gone?”

            “Yeah –”

            There was a crashing noise of breaking glass, and the door banged open, and the man charged back into the room. “I knew it! Stupid military rats, sniffin’ ‘round –” he crumpled to the floor as Mikasa kicked him swiftly in the side of the head.

            “Now he is,” she said. Levi rolled his eyes.

            “What was that sound?” Eren asked, poking his head out next to Hange’s.

            “Breaking glass?” Armin poke up next to them.

            “Phillip?” a man roared outside, and they all froze (for what felt like the nth time that day). “What’s up?”

            Levi and Hange exchanged panicked glances, and Eren’s eyes bulged. Suddenly, Armin opened his mouth. “All good!” he shouted, in a perfect imitation of the unconscious man’s voice.

            Everyone’s jaws dropped. Eren stuffed a fist into his mouth, stifling his giggles, an Mikasa grinned. Levi grabbed the unconscious man, tossing him out of the door and slamming the door shut, snapping the lock shut and shoving a crate in front of the door. The man outside began swearing, banging the door, and Levi exhaled.

            “What the _fuck_.” Eren began laughing. Armin turned pink, and Hange cackled.

            “Hey, guys,” Levi said. “Weird crashing. Missing pony. Mission?”

            “Oh, yeah, that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update so soon? I am on fire!


	12. XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the fourth wall is literally broken and creepy stalkers are kind of exposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IT'S BEEN SO LONG I'M SO FUCKING SORRY.

The man under Jean’s hands – for it really was a man – suddenly gave an almighty thrash. Jean stumbled back with a shout of surprise, wincing as he slammed into a pile of crates piled up near the wall (he was assuming that it was a wall, as he still couldn’t see).

            The crates tumbled to the ground, crashing to the floor, tinkling noises ringing through the room as what sounded like countless empty glass bottles shattered on the ground. Jean stumbled, landing on his rear, wincing as broken glass pierced his skin.

            He stood again, holding his knife carefully, approaching the spot where the man had been earlier. He knelt slowly, moving his hands over the man’s body until he reached his face, feeling a spit-soaked bundle of fabric. Schooling his disgust, he pinched a small piece of it, tugging it out and tossing it behind him.

            The man took a shuddering breath, coughing a few times. “Boot,” he croaked out.

            “What?” Jean tightened his grip on the knife.

            “Boot,” the man gasped again. “In my boot. Left foot. Matches.”

            “Oh,” Jean moved his hand again, feeling for the boot. “Uh, do I –”

            “In it.”

            Jean slid the boot of the man’s foot, feeling immensely awkward (and slightly disgusted, wrinkling his nose as the smell of stale sweat and moldy cheese pervaded the air) (Wait, cheese?). He tipped it upside down. “Uh, there’s nothing in here.”

            “ _In_ it, wimp.”

            Jean winced, reaching into the boot. He pried at the bottom of the boot where, indeed, a number of matches were waiting, stuck to the leather by what he _really_ hoped was glue, and not a mixture of sweat and melted cheese (He was not so lucky).

            Gagging silently, he struck the match, holding it up near the man’s face. “Shit, not so close, brat!” he yelped, shuffling backwards.

            “Oh, sorry.” Jean moved the match, looking at the man again. He was middle-aged, maybe around Hange’s height, with stringy brown hair, a small bald patch at the crown of his head. He blinked watery blue eyes as he squinted at Jean.

            “What’s your division, rookie?”

            Jean’s eye twithed. “ _Not_ a rookie, thank you very much. Jean Kirschtein, Survey Corps, Special Operations Squad.”

            The man’s brows furrowed. “Survey Corps, huh?” he grumbled, and Jean felt a familiar prick of irritation. “The Underground isn’t in your jurisdiction.”

            “Don’t you have better things to worry about?”

            “Don’t you sass me, youngster.” The man titled his chin at the knife still in Jean’s hand. “Get me out, will you?”

            “Not yet,” Jean said, holding the knife a bit higher. “Answer some questions first.”

            The man rolled his eyes. “We can’t do this while I’m untied?”

            “No. First, what is this place?”

            “Does it look like I know, kid?” the man snorted. “I was drugged and, when I woke up, I was in here.”

            “How long ago was that?”

            “I dunno, kid. Maybe a day or so?” the man shrugged (as well as he could with his bindings). “Slept twice. Wore myself out yelling.”

            Jean narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “Why would they keep two soldiers –”

            “Are you dumb, brat?” the man snapped. “Look around you. We’re not the only ones.”

            Jean’s eyes widened and he whirled around, waving the match about. The weak light flickered as he swung it, but it was enough to illuminate at least three more people tied up and tossed into the room like potato sacks. “What the shit?” he breathed.

            “Do you believe me _now_?” the man said. “Now, about these ropes. . .”

 

“Two doors,” Levi said, looking around. “Trapdoor and the one we’ve barred. They know there’s intruders in here, now, so fat chance getting out of either of them.”

            “Where could Jean be?” Hange pondered out loud. “We know they came up here, but past that. . .”

            Eren winced as he looked at the barred door, which shuddered as people on the other side pounded on it, shouting furiously. “Yeah, about that. . .”

            “This isn’t good,” Hange muttered.

            “No kidding, Four-Eyes,” Levi said, looking around the room. “Shit, we don’t have a fucking chance here,” he growled. “Are you _sure_ there’s no other doors?”

            “Levi, we’ve looked!” Eren said. “Where else –”

            “There has to be somewhere else!” Levi gripped his head, wincing. _What the fuck’s happening?_

            “Levi, face it!” Hange said. “We’re trapped?” they frowned, peering at him. “Are you okay?”

            “Don’t we have other things to worry about?” Levi snapped, slamming a fist on the wall. He frowned at the noise it made, then pounded it again. “What the hell?” he muttered.

            “What?” Mikasa asked, looking at him.

            Levi’s fist landed on it again. “It’s hollow,” he muttered. “There’s nothing behind this wall.”

            “Are you serious?” Hange whirled around to gape at him. “But, then –” they slammed their fist on the wall as well. “Jean!” they called, slamming their fist on it again. “Jean, are you there?”

 

Jean jumped as a loud echoing noise rang through the space they were in. “What the hell was that?” he muttered, looking around as the man behind him sat up, wincing and rubbing his sore wrists.

            “Probably those fuckin’ thugs again,” the MP muttered, standing up, teetering slightly. “Out of the way, greenhorn, I’ll handle them.”

            “No, you will not,” Jean snapped, surprising even himself with the authority in his voice as he snapped at the older soldier. “Sit the fuck down, alright?”

            “Who do you think you’re commanding, brat –”

            “ _Sit the fuck down!_ ” the man jumped, flopping onto his rear. There were shuffling noises as the other hostages shifted, trying to get a look at them. “And stay quiet,” he hissed as another banging noise rang through the room.

            “Jean!” His eyes widened at the familiar voice. “Jean, are you there?”

            “You think Jean’s _behind_ the wall?” another voice asked.

            There was a lighter rapping noise. “Jean?” another, gentler voice called.

            “Pals of yours?” the man asked.

            “Shut it,” Jean snapped. “Hange?” he called. “Meeks? Armin?”

            “Horseface!”

            “Can it, brat.”

            “Jaeger! Levi!” Jean scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, I’m here!”

            “How the fuck do we open this thing?” he heard Levi demand.

            “Kick it, Captain!” Eren cheered.

            “I’ll kick _you_.”

            “Jean!” Armin called. “See if there are any hinges on that side. There aren’t any here.”

            “Yeah, got it!” Jean stood up, making his way towards the wall. He moved his fingers along the edges, frowning. Then – “Yeah, there’re some here!”

            “It opens towards you, then,” Hange concluded. “Jean, step back!”

            “Wait, what are you gonna –”

            “Levi, do your thing!”

            Jean threw himself back, tossing his arms in front of his face, as the wall – or, rather, oversized door – crashed open. There were muffled screams as the other captives frantically rolled away from the door and light flooded in. Jean held a hand up in front of his face, wincing as he blew out his match.

            Hange grinned as Levi brushed his hands off, despite clearly not having used them. “Heya, Kirschtein!” they greeted. “How ya doing?”

            “I’ve been better,” Jean said as Armin and Mikasa began rushing towards the captives. Eren walked towards Hange, handing them a massive, leather-bound book that they accepted eagerly.

            Levi, meanwhile, had knelt down next to the shattered bottles Jean had knocked over. He gingerly picked up a piece of glass and held it close to his face, sniffing it. “Drugs,” he muttered. “Some kind of street sedative. Probably cooked in an alleyway or some shit.”

            “Lemme take a sample,” Hange said, kneeling down next to him and holding out a little baggie in which he dropped the glass. “Bit more, please.”

            “Uh, Levi?”

            “What is it, Armin?” Levi asked distractedly as he lifted another shard of glass with the tip of his knife.

            “Can’t we just take a bottle?” Hange suggested.

            “Yeah, cool.”

            “Captain?”

            “What the fuck –” Levi turned around and froze.

            The entire back wall was plastered with pictures of him. Newspaper articles, rough sketches, detailed drawings, and handwritten notes were pinned up all over the wall, pieces of string connecting them.

            “What the hell?” he muttered, walking over to the wall. There was him walking down the street. Him with Hange and Moblit in town. Him in a meeting with Erwin. Him being led out of the Underground by Erwin in handcuffs. Him facing down a man twice his size in an alleyway holding a gun to his forehead and a knife to his throat. Him, Isabel, and Farlan walking down the street. Him –

            He tensed at the last sketch, eyes widening, inhaling sharply. “What the –"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist: the thugs were all actually Levi fangirls.


	13. XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are weirdly-placed flashbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a sketch of the picture that you can see here: https://doritoface1q.tumblr.com/image/185018601236
> 
> IT'S BAD BECAUSE UNDERGROUNDERS ARE BAD AT ANATOMY NOT ME MHM MHM UH HUH YUP.

_“But why can’t we come?”_

_Levi sighed, a long, low, and exasperated noise. Farlan rubbed his forehead with a small groan._

_“I told you,” Levi snapped, tucking a knife in his boot. “There’s no way in hell you’re coming – or even following. They asked for me, and me alone.”_

_“For once, I’m with her,” Farlan said. “Levi, I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again – this is the sketchiest-ass thing I’ve ever heard. That much money just for moving cargo? There’s gotta be something else going on.”_

_“How else are we gonna get the money on time?” Levi demanded, flicking his wrists, making sure his blades slid smoothly into his hands. “Our debt’s way too big, and Jason’s got rifles locked and loaded.” Farlan raised his gaze to the heavens, lips moving in a silent mutter as if asking for divine patience._

_“Don’t stress,” Levi said. “This is me we’re talking ‘bout, remember? I’ll be fine.”_

 

Hange snatched the picture off the wall, staring at it. “That,” they said. “Is the creepiest-ass thing I’ve ever seen.”

            “Someone’s got a fan club,” Jean muttered, staring at the wall, unsettled.

            “Correction,” Mikasa leaned over, peering at one of the notes. “ _Stalkers_. Levi, this is from 842. It’s a MP notice about three dangerous felons in the Underground.”

            Levi snorted. “Sounds about right.”

            Hange was examining the picture. “When did this happen?” they asked, showing it to him. Instinctively he twitched, turning his head away. They frowned. “You okay?”

            He rolled his eyes. “I’ve just found out there’s a group of Underground creepos who’ve been following my every movement. _Excuse me_ for being a little bit unsettled.”

            Hange shoved the paper in his face. “Just look,” they wheedled. “Maybe it’ll jog some of those long-forgotten memories.”

            Levi scowled, forcing himself to look at it. It was definitely unsettling – Levi was kneeling on the ground, shadows of other people looming over him, eyes wide and crazed, hair a mess, shirt hanging open and ripped, reaching for a blade.

            “What the fuck?” Eren said, peeking over his shoulder. “I mean, uh, sir,” he said as Levi shot him a glare.

            “I don’t fucking know,” he muttered, looking back at it. “I don’t remember this. Maybe just some creep with an overactive imagination.”

            “We both know that’s not true,” Hange said. “Come on, Levi, _think_!”

            “Hange, I swear to god –"

 

_The door slammed shut behind Levi as he cast a gaze around the room. Simple furniture – wooden desk and chair, nothing on the surface save for a large, leather-bound ledger, perhaps the most expensive things in the building._

_“Ah, Mr. Levi,” the man sitting behind the des looked up, dark hair falling over his forehead, demure smile dampened slightly scar tracing its way over his lips. “Please, take a seat.”_

_“I’d prefer to stay standing, thanks,” Levi said coolly, taking in the sight of the man before him. “And you can drop the ‘mister’ – I’m not some Mitras pig.”_

_“Of course,” the man nodded. “Now, I assume you’ve been told the details of the job?”_

_“Funnily enough, no,” Levi said wryly, shooting a glare over his shoulder, hoping the smoldering anger would make it through to the guards on the other side._

_The man laughed. “Understandable – my men are_ quite _protective. You understand, surely.”_

 _“They’re not_ my _men,” Levi snapped._

_“Of course – although, I hope you’ll accept my deepest compliments on your crew of children; very well-trained, aren’t they? Your work?”_

_“Meticulous,” Levi said, crossing his arms. “Skip the small talk, ratcatcher. I know you’re not from here. What’s the real reason I’m here?”_

_“Why would it be anything other than what I described?”_

_“Cut the shit, fuckwad.” Levi crossed his arms. “You don’t hire_ me _to move some boxes. What do you want?”_

 _“Well, it’s simple_ –”

 

“Shit!” Levi stumbled back, blinking, hand on his forehead. “Shit, shit, _shit!_ ”

            “Levi?” Hange put a hand on his elbow. “What’s up?”

            “Ah, son of a vertically challenged female dog with cranial dysfunction!” Levi snarled, massaging his temple.

            “You?” Mikasa asked.

            “Leave my mother out of this.”

            “You started it.”

            Levi scowled, rubbing his forehead. “ _Christ_ , that was weird. Fuck, I think I know how you feel, now, Jaeger.”

            “Huh?”

            Hange glanced at Levi, and he frowned. “I think I know him,” he said. “The guy who runs this shit. . .” he screwed his eyes shut, trying to recall details. “Dark hair. . . uh, brown, I think. Kinda round, little scar on his lip. . .” He opened his eyes. “Shitbag.”

            “That is _not_ helpful!”

            “Wait,” both soldiers turned around as an MP, freshly untied by Armin, in the corner sat up slowly, rubbing her wrists. “Are –” she coughed, and Armin offered her a canteen. “Thanks,” she said with another cough. “Are you talking about Oscar Meyer?”

            Levi frowned. “You know him?”

            Another MP that Jean had been helping up nodded. “He’s a merchant,” he said, standing up. “He dropped by Headquarters to talk to my Squad Leader right before I was captured.”

            “Hey, same!”

            “I think I saw a guy like that in the market right before I was caught. . .” a Garrison soldier mused.

            Hange glanced at Levi. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” they asked.

            “I better be, or else I’m on a completely different track,” Levi said, turning to Armin. “Armin, _tell me_ you have a plan.”

            Everybody glanced at Armin, who looked nervous, but nowhere near as panicked as he might have been before (Levi gave himself a mental pat on the back – bloody murder seemed to have broken the blonde boy out of his shell). “Yes,” he said slowly, carefully. “But you might not like it.”

            “Sounds great,” Mikasa said immediately. Levi flipped her the bird.

            “Basically,” Armin said. “It’s an, uh, rendition of Levi’s original plan from the Blooms’ place.”

            “Oh,” Hange said. “Oh _no_.”

            “I mean, what other plans do we have?” Armin asked. “And we have ODM in the other room, too.”  
            “What?” Eren asked. “What are we doing?”  
            Jean groaned as Levi turned around, and said, completely seriously:

            “We’re going to jump out of the windows, and then we’re going to run for our motherfucking lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story's going to be over very soon! Get excited (please)!


	14. XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is murder and a lot of italics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T TOUCH MY SON.

_Levi glowered at Jason as he loomed over him, arms crossed._

_“Spare the bullshit,” Levi snapped. “You know you can’t stop me.”_

_Jason scowled. “I ain’t trying to_ stop _you,” he growled. “Just tryna remind you.” He leaned down and Levi resisted the urge to flinch away from the rotten smell on his breath. “You owe me, shorty.”_

_“And I told you, I’ll get you your stinkin’ money,” Levi snapped. “Now get out of my way, loser.”_

_“I don’t think so,” Jason moved to block Levi’s path as he kept walking. “See, here, Levi, I’ve let you off the hook one to many times. A single favor doesn’t pull that much grace with me.”_

_“Surprised you know what that means,” Levi monotoned, though his glare may have told a different story. “Listen, what are you gonna do?” he asked. “You can’t stop me, and you couldn’t lay a finger on me if you, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, tried.” He gave the loan shark a heavy shove in the chest, making him stumble back. “So leave me the hell alone, got it?” He shifted his cloak. “I pay my debts, Jason. You of all people should know that.”_

_“Apparently, I don’t.” Jason’s hand slammed down on the wall, caging Levi. “All right, kid, listen up. You’re strong, and you know you’re worth shit. I respect that.” Levi snorted. “But there’s also only so much patience I can have for a dirt-broke runt.”_

_Levi sneered. “All right, Jason. You want my money? You’ll get it.” He poked Jason in the chest, leaving the tip of the digit pressed against his breastbone. “Give me a week, tops.” He pushed the finger forwards until Jason winced, grabbing his wrist and tugging it away._

_“Three days,” he hissed. “Or else.”_

_“Or else what, ass-shit?”_

_“Or else your redhead gets it.”_

 

“All right!” Philip raised the battering ram with the others, scowling, the back of his head throbbing. _Damn those military rats!_ he cursed. _Shit, that hurts. . ._ He grit his teeth. “On three!” _But once we send out the next shipment, I’ll have enough to get to the surface!_

            “One!” they rocked the battering ram back. _My dream. . . it’s in reach!_

            “Two!” _Sina School of Dance. . ._

            “Three!” _Here I come –!_

            “Cowabunga!”

            The door crashed open, flattening the front row of the thugs (Philip being an unfortunate member), and soldiers began shooting out of it, ODM cables latching onto the hallway walls as they shot through the building (much to the shock of the inhabitants, if the screeches echoing through the rooms were anything to go by).

            “Shit!” another thug rushed into the room just in time to see Jean chucking an empty crate through the window, shattering it.

            “Go, go, go!” he yelled as soldiers began flying away. “Get to the MP base, tell them that Squad Levi’s got what they need!”

            “Get them –” the thug began shouting, but was cut off as Eren lobbed a crate at his face.

            “Jesus shit, run already!” Levi yelled, hurling another crate at the men. “You had one job! _One job!_ ”

            “I don’t see you doing any sprinting!” Mikasa yelled as they raced down the hall, tugging out their swords.

            “Well, excuse you!” Levi kicked a man in the stomach, slashing his sword down another man’s torso. “Shit!” he glared at the blood coating his blade before turning and running, slamming the hilt of his blade into the side of a large, bricklike woman’s head.

            “Levi!” Jean called, catching up. “Everyone else is out of the building and headed for the MP base! It’s just us, now.”

            “Good,” Levi muttered, skittering to a halt at the end of a hall. “Big door,” he frowned.

            “Boss battle senses tingling,” Eren shifted his weight.

            “Yup.” Levi raised his sword, smashing the handle against the wood.

 

_Faint moonlight flickered weakly through a gutter above, and Levi glanced up as he followed the hooded men down the street, feeling the silver light on his face for a second before they’d passed the rays._

_“Here,” the man said gruffly, stopping in front of a pile of crates piled near a boarded-up entrance. Levi glanced at the Staircase, dust and filth lying on its steps, having gone unused for years. The planks had been freshly pried off the doorway, and there was a man standing nearby, two guns tucked into his belt. Levi simply nodded, walking towards the crates while another man began working the pulley system on the old Staircase down._

_Levi frowned as he lifted the first crate – it was large, significantly larger than any crates he’d knocked over or run off with during his thieving. His mouth was already open, question halfway through his lips before he bit them back, disguising the motion as a cough._ Best not to ask questions with these kinds of people _._

_“Here,” one man nodded at the cargo platform they’d managed to get working again. He nodded, placing the crate on the platform. Another man placed his own on top of it and they continued working, piling the wooden boxes up neatly._

_This went on for about two more hours, none of the men exchanging words, save for the occasional ‘‘scuse me’ and ‘cargo ready’. Levi was by no means weak – he knew he may well have been the strongest person in the Underground, maybe in all of Sina, but even his arms were feeling a bit sore by the time the final load had begun going up._

_He stretched an arm out in front of him, rolling his neck, hearing it pop. “Pleasure working with you, boys,” he said, swinging his arms. “Now, where’s my cash?”_

_One of the men dug around in his pocket before holding out a bag. Levi took it, sifting through it, counting under his breath as the other men stood around, watching. Finally, he looked up, nodding and tucking the bag into his vest. “See you around –” he begun._

_“Move!” a man burst out of the Staircase door. “Everybody, move your asses!_ Now! _”_

_There was a rumbling, crashing noise coming from the archway, and, in that moment, Levi suddenly understood why the Staircase had been boarded up in the first place._

_He threw himself to the side just as a rain of boulders crashed through the door, along with a smattering of crates. He threw his arms up in front of his face, wincing as small shards of stone pelted his arms._

_He looked up as the noises stopped, squinting his eyes against the cloud of stone dust. What looked like a massive boulder had smashed against the hard stone ground, and the smaller chunks were scattered nearby. Smaller stones were still rolling around on the ground, mingling with splintered wood from the crates, chunks of the Staircase that had broken off, the destroyed cargo platform, and. . . blood?_

_Levi glanced around with a frown, noting that the rest of the men who’d been working with him had all survived._ So, where. . ?

The crates.

_Levi stood up in a fluid motion, marching towards the crates, ignoring one man’s shout of, ‘hey, hold on, kid!’. He crouched on the ground next to a mostly-intact one, lifting the lid._

_His eyes widened. There, in the box, lay a little girl, no older than eight, curled up to fit in the crate, limbs bound, eyes wide and vacant, blood flowing freely from her crushed skull. Levi shot to his feet, heart pounding. He turned, rushing towards another crate which’d been mostly crushed by a large rock. In there was a young woman, bound similarly, her entire upper body smashed like a bug by the rock. In the third there was a teenage boy, in the fourth a muscular, middle-aged man, and in the fifth, a Military Police officer._

_The men stood to the side as Levi looked inside each and every box. Finally, he stood up, boots soaked in red, hands limp by his side._

Merchandise.

Transport.

            They’re. . .

            _He gasped as a thick arm suddenly wrapped around his neck, squeezing tightly, constricting his airflow. Another hand slammed over his mouth, and he was lifted off the ground, kicking furiously, head spinning from lack of oxygen._

_“Damnit, kid,” the man holding him grumbled as another approached with a rope. “You couldn’t just leave?” He sighed, pulling his arm a bit tighter and Levi choked, eyes rolling madly, tugging at the limbs keeping the air from him. “‘Least you’re a good catch,” he commented. “Strong, but small. . . I’m sure there’s plenty o’ people who’d want you for plenty of different things.”_

_“Get him to stop moving,” the other man snapped as Levi kicked out at him, knocking the rope from his hands. “Just knock him out or some shit.”_

_“Fuck, is he still conscious?” Black blotches were appearing in Levi’s vision and he tugged even harder at the man’s arms. “Damnit, brat, quit_ moving. _What could you even do to us anyways –”_

_He shouted as he was suddenly thrown over Levi’s shoulder, landing hard on his back, coughing as the air was knocked out of him. He’d made a critical mistake – he’d let Levi’s feet touch the floor._

_The second man stumbled backwards, but he was too slow – Levi’s blade slashed through his throat before he could even reach for his gun. The other men instantly started grabbing at theirs, but Levi was too quick – he flitted between them, slitting throats and stabbing them between the ribs and in the back, feeling bone and muscle split beneath his blade, hearing the gurgles as the men fell to their feet._

_Levi turned towards the man who’d choked him, breathing heavily, head still spinning from his brush with death. The man scrambled into a sitting position, crab-walking backwards, grabbing a fun from one of his fallen companions as Levi moved towards him, slow and wild-eyed._

_Levi suddenly burst into motion, charging forwards. Blinding pain exploded in his shoulder but he paid it no mind as he rammed into the man, stabbing him beneath the collarbone as he knocked him to the ground. But that wasn’t enough for him – he kept stabbing, feeling blood spray as he drove the knife into the man’s body: chest, face, arms, hips, neck,_ anything. _He screamed as he missed his mark, blade shattering against the stone. He tossed the useless handle of the dagger away, grabbing the man from the shoulders and slamming him into the ground._

_Again._

_Again._

_Again._

_He finally stopped when his arms began shaking, world and vision shaking. He dropped the man, hearing his body flop limply against the ground. He stared down at the mutilated corpse, not even an ounce of disgust in him as his gaze moved over the torn flesh from the countless stab wounds to the shattered head, skull crushed to bits from the continuous beating, blood and mushy brains sliding slowly across the ground._

_Levi stood up, swaying slightly, world still twirling in ways the world generally should not. He took a shaky step forwards, stumbling slightly. He grimaced at the feel of blood soaking his clothes, his skin, his hair. He tried to take a deep breath but ended up doubled over, coughing, abused windpipe throbbing. He collapsed to his knees, massaging his throat, wheezing. It was a while before he got up again._

_His feet moved on their own – before he knew it, Levi was limping through the back alleys, slipping through the shadows towards the alley he knew that Jason would be in, playing cards with his goons, waiting for the nightly visits of the poor and destitute of the Underground – that is, to say, most of everyone._

_Jason glanced up from his hand as Levi stumbled towards them, cigarette between his lips. His easy grin fell as he saw Levi and he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his gun._

_Levi reached into his vest, pulling out the blood-soaked bag and tossing it to the ground. It skittered forwards, stopping next to the little tin-fire the loan shark had set up._

_“Take your fucking cash,” Levi said hoarsely, glaring at the men around him, daring them to say anything about his appearance. “Now, leave me the fuck alone.”_

_Jason nodded at a nearby thug who snatched up the bag, wrinkling his nose at the blood that dripped to the ground. He opened it, spilling the contents onto a rusted tray that he handed to Jason. The older man poked at the now-red money, sniffing as blood came away on his finger. “Fine, you pass,” he said, handing the tray to another man who began emptying it into a box. “Now get the hell out of here, you bloody brat.” The men around chuckled as if he’d just made a hilarious joke._

Ha-ha, motherfucker.

            _Levi dove forwards, knocking Jason off the crate he was perched on –_ a crate, just like the ones _they’d_ been in – _and the two men tumbled on the ground in a mess of limbs. Levi heard Jason’s gun go off, but couldn’t care less whether or not a bullet had penetrated him. He forced Jason onto his back, locking him in place with his knees and grabbed a nearby bottle. He smashed it on the ground, shards of glass flying through the air, cutting him, the goons who’d tried to approach and stop him, and Jason, who roared with pain._

 _“Leave –”_ Slash.

 _“Me_ –” Slash.

            “ _Alone!”_ Slash.

            _Levi finished off with a final punch to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of a nose breaking. He snatched Jason’s gun as he stood up, aiming it at the whimpering shark’s face as he backed out of the alley._

 _He began moving faster after he’d left the alley, half-running, half-limping through the streets, the pain beginning to catch up to him as the adrenaline high faded. He’d been shot –_ twice _, now. He could feel the lead moving around inside of him, feeling the blood, a mix of Jason’s and the dead men’s, sliding over his skin, over his clothes, over his open wounds. His throat burned with every step he took, and he knew it was only by a miracle that he hadn’t yet passed out._

_Lady Blanc was lecturing a girl when Levi crashed through the door, landing on the ground in a bloody heap. The girl screamed as Lady Blanc rushed forwards, hitching her skirts up to a height that would have made her, herself, gasp in horror._

_“Leo?” She knelt next to him, grabbing his face and forcing his eyelids open with her thumbs. “Liam, what happened?” She shook him as his eyes began drifting shut again. “Silas, talk!” She glanced over her shoulder at the petrified girl. “Get a hot knife, hot water, bandages, and stitches for Luke! Now!” she added, and the girl snapped out of her stupor, running up the stairs._

_Lady Blanc pressed her hand to Levi’s shoulder, stemming the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Milo,” she said. She grit her teeth when all he gave was a dry wheeze and slapped him across the face. The sharp pain made him gasp, eyes flickering open. “Isaac, what happened?” she said. “Levi!”_

_His eyes wandered over her, bleary and unfocused, blood dripping down into one eye from a cut over his eyebrow. “Slave. . .” he muttered, voice hoarse. “Traders.”_

_“A lot.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is almost over! Wheeeeeee!
> 
> Me, listening to Hamilton: You had one job! One job! And you couldn't even fucking do that! _Stay alive_ , is it that hard? Jesus!


	15. XV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which flashbacks are abundant and the bois have their pal's back (and shoulder).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters! *intense screaming*
> 
> Also it's so fucking hot. I'M MELTING.

Oscar’s heart pounded as he held onto the gun, thumb on the safety switch, finger over the trigger. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he listened to the shouts of his fallen men outside. _They’re here_.

            He closed his eyes as the screams got closer. _Soldiers._ It was bad enough that his merchandise had all been freed – he didn’t want to think about who had managed to get pas his countless guards.

            _It couldn’t be. . ._

_Is it?_

_No. . ._

_Him?_

 

 _Levi opened his eyes with a small groan, blinking as the ceiling above him came into focus. His blurry vision drifted over the spiderwebs in the corners and the dust piled on the rafters._ Ew _._

 _He sat up, rubbing his throat with a wince._ Ah, shit _. He suddenly gasped, tensing and grabbing at his shoulder._ Son of a shit! _He grabbed the other one with his other hand, biting his lip as he rocked back and forth, eyes squeezed shut, hissing curses under his breath. “Shit, shit,_ shit! _” he coughed as his throat rebelled fiercely against the articulation._

_The door swung open and Lady Blanc walked in to a tiny ball of anger rolling around on her couch, coughing and hacking out curses. “Ivan!”_

_Levi sat up like a shot with another cough, massaging his throat. “The hell happened, Grans?” he wheezed. “I feel like I was tossed through a shit machine.”_

_“An ass?”_

_“Yeah, that.”_

_Lady Blanc sat down, setting down a tray with teacups and a pot no doubt full of some sort of alcoholic beverage. “Why don’t you tell me that, stinker?” she asked. “You show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in blood, full of bullets, scaring the shit out of Peggy –”_

_“Well that explains a lot,” Levi muttered, then winced again, pressing his hand to his forehead. “Shit machine’s rolling again,” he muttered. “Goddamn, that hurts.” He frowned. “I think I went to see Jason. . . pretty sure I broke some shit.”_

_“What shit?”_

_“A bottle. And his face.”_

_Lady Blanc sniffed, taking a sniff. “I suppose boys will be boys,” she said. “Do you remember anything else?”_

_“Fuck, no,” Levi muttered, glancing at the mirror set into the wall, frowning at the bruise on his neck. “Grans,” he said, completely serious. “Did I have some kinky fucking last night or something?”_

_Lady Blanc sniffed. “As if,” she said. “No, you showed up like that.”_

_“Okay,” Levi muttered, standing up shakily and reaching for the clean shirt folded on the armrest of the couch. Lady Blanc watched expressionlessly as he slid it on gingerly, buttoning each button slowly, carefully._

_“I should probably get home,” he muttered, sliding his feet into his boots (he frowned at the bloodstains lining the leather). “Hey, Grans?”_

_“Yes, Leonard?”_

_“Did I say anything else last night?”_

_Lady Blanc watched him blankly. “No,” she said._

 

Levi snarled as the doors shuddered but didn’t open.

            “It’s barred,” Hange said.

            “Fucking hell, I know!” He raised a leg, aiming a sharp kick at it. “Goddamnit!”

            He raised a leg again, and, this time, when he struck the wood, Jean and Eren both charged at the door, ramming their shoulders against the wood. It splintered.

            “Again!”

            This time, Levi aimed his full body weight at the spot between the two panels and the three men tumbled through the entrance, crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

            _Bang!_

            Levi shoved Jean and Eren in the other direction as he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding getting shot in the face. Still, the bullet had grazed his ear and he scowled as he felt blood run down the side of his face.

            Mikasa charged forwards, flipping the desk and sending the man sitting behind it crashing to the ground. She forced his head down, twisting his arms behind his back as Hange seized him.

            “Oscar Meyer?” Hange asked as they wrapped a thick cord around his wrists.

            The man grunted and Mikasa slammed the handle of her sword on his head.

            “Answer the question, shithead,” she growled (Eren looked kind of proud).

            “Yes!” he snarled. “Yes! Now let me go!”

            “Yeah, not happening,” Hange lugged him to his feet. “Levi, this the guy?”

            The man’s eyes widened as they fell on Levi’s face. “So, it’s true. . .” he muttered. “The great and powerful Levi was drafted as a green cloak.”

            “Alive and well, too,” Levi scowled, resting his sword on his shoulder (Armin ducked to avoid having his eye poked out). “And very much a free, unbound individual, thank you for asking.”

            Mikasa’s gaze shot to him, mild alarm in her eyes as she realized what he was saying. Armin inhaled sharply and Jean’s eyes widened. “Those soldiers back there. . .” he realized, looking disgusted.

            “Those numbers in the ledger,” Eren’s fists were quaking, eyes dark with fury. “Sales and prices.”

            Hange scowled, tightening the ropes. The man hissed. “You’re a real sick shit, you know that?” they commented, lugging him to his feet.

            “Fuck you,” the man spat. “You soldiers don’t do shit, inside or out of the Walls. Might as well put you to some use –”

            “From what I can recall,” Levi said, twirling his blade (Armin performed a series of intense, Cirque-de-Soleil-worthy acrobatics, curving in ways that should have been physically impossible to avoid having his guts spilled). “Which, granted, isn’t much right now, but we’re getting there – those kids weren’t soldiers.”

            Mikasa was now practically glowering at the man, and Eren looked like he was contemplating bloody murder. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” Oscar growled. “Transport the goods, get paid, leave. Should have been simple enough.”

            “Yeah, well, I don’t control falling rocks,” Levi snapped, turning around. “Should have thought of that before you hired me.” He scoffed. “Come on, let’s get this shit to the MPs.”

            Hange nodded, grabbing the collar of his shirt. “Speaking of the MPs,” Oscar wheezed as they began dragging him away. “You never really had a good relationship with them, did you, Levi?”

            “Oh, my god,” Eren grumbled. “Tear this dude apart.”

            “Quite willing to go out of your way to tick them off, too, if I recall!” Oscar added, ignoring Jean’s glare. “Why help them now?”

            “Can I stab him?” Mikasa muttered. “Please? Just a little bit?”

            “And what happened to your pals?” Levi froze, Armin running into his shoulder (“ _OhmygdoI’minpain_ ”). “That blondie? And the little girl?”

            “Hey,” Hange snapped, yanking harshly on his collar, making him cough, while the younger soldiers exchanged half-confused, half-worried looks. “Shut the hell up.”

            “You need the money to pay off a debt, didn’t you?” the man hacked. Levi was still standing shock-still, blade dangling by his side. “To get the kid out of some trouble? That’s why you came to me, wasn’t it?”

            “You’ll want to shut your trap, _right now_ ,” Hange snarled.

            “They were dragged off to the military with you, weren’t they?” Oscar kept talking, and Levi realized he was shaking. “Or maybe they weren’t important enough? The Survey Corps only needs the best for the suicide squad, don’t they?”

            Mikasa kicked him in the side, seemingly picking up and putting together fragments of the story. “Shut it,” she growled.

            “Were they hanged?” the man wheezed as he continued talking.

            “ _Shut up!_ ” Jean glared at him.

            “Stamped out like the rats they were? Filthy little thugs?” Oscar’s face was turning purple as Hange’s grip tightened. “Pity, if only they knew what _you’d_ done, I’m sure that would have warranted a guillotine. . . or maybe they were crushed outside the Walls, insignificant bugs against a Titan –”

            “I said shut up!” Hange yelled.

            “I bet they shat themselves when they died –”

 

_Isabel leaned over the side of the couch, watching as Levi sat in his chair, cleaning his knife. “Hey, bro?”_

_“What?” Levi glanced up. His shirt was still damp from the wash bucket, top few buttons undone. His vest was hanging from the clothesline outside, dripping onto the street below, and his boots were propped upside-down on the windowsill, bloodstains still remaining on the soles despite his scrubbing._

_“You’re strong, ain’t ‘cha?”_

_Levi frowned. “Well, yeah. . .”_

_“There’s lotsa people scared of you, right?”_

_“Uh-huh,” Levi moved the rag up and down the blade, Isabel watching its movements, seemingly entranced. “What about it?”_

_“But you’re nice.”_

_Levi scowled, tossing the rag at her face. She laughed, catching it. “Can it, brat,” he grumbled as she handed it back to him._

_“But you are!” she folded her arms, resting her chin on them. “And, plus, you don’t_ like _hurting people, right?”_

_Levi’s methodical wiping faltered. “No,” he finally said. “I prefer not to.”_

_“So why do it?”_

_Levi snorted. “Christ, you’re naïve,” he said. “Listen, Izzie, there are a load of assholes in the world. They tear each other apart, and that works great for me.”_

_“Why?”_

_“‘Cause there’s loads of shits who’ll be willing to pay people to get rid of people they don’t like,” Levi said, twirling his knife and miming slashing a throat. Isabel wacthed, face impassive._

_“But you don’t like it.”_

_Levi sighed, putting the knife on the table. “No. But if it keeps food on the table, then I don’t give a shit.”_

_Isabel nodded. “Okay.” Then, “Hey, bro?”_

_“What?”_

_“You wouldn’t hurt anybody for no reason, right?”_

_Levi sighed, tugging irritably at a strand of hair. “Shit, no, Izzie. Why are we talking about this?”_

_“I just wanna know.”_

_Levi met her eyes. “I will kill people,” he said. “And I’ll hurt them. And I’ll beat ‘em to a pulp. But I’ll only do that if I absolutely have to.”_

_Isabel nodded, holding out her pinkie, leaning over the back of the couch. “Promise?” she asked._

_Levi rolled his eyes at the childish gesture but reached out anyways, hooking his own thin pinkie with hers. “Sure.”_

 

“Levi!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have intense pain in my lower ribs, is that bad?
> 
> Also, I should be studying for finals, but FANFICTION IS MORE IMPORTANT.


	16. XVI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is even more flashbacks and intentional memory repression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so much schoolwork and exam prep (இ﹏இ`｡) Summer I await theeeeee~

_“Didja hear?”_

_Levi glanced up at Farlan from his card, frowning. “What?”_

_Farlan slid a pile of chips across the table. “Bet fifty,” he said, leaning back. “Apparently, some o’ Manning’s boys found a shitload of bodies up on the Ledge. Near that old Staircase, ya know? The eighth?”_

_Levi frowned, sliding his own chips forwards. “Raise sixty,” he said. “What happened?”_

_Farlan whistled, glancing back at his cards. “Call,” he said. “They don’t know,” he added as Levi took a sip of the bottle resting on his side of the table. “Looks like they were shipping people to the surface. . . some kind of coyote service or something?” he shrugged. “Looks like most of them were crushed.”_

_“Just rocks?” Levi asked, placing his cards face-down on the table. Farlan nodded, and he furrowed his brows. “Why make a big deal out of it, then?”_

_Farlan shrugged. “From what Diggy told me, looks like there were at least a few who were killed. Some guy with a gun and knife went batshit crazy or something. Stabs, bullets, you know the drill.” He flipped his cards with a smirk, revealing a 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. “Straight flush,” he grinned toothily, reaching forwards, reaching for Levi’s chips._

_Levi held a hand up in front of the carved wooden counters. “Not so fast,” he said, running a finger lightly over his own cards. “What do you mean batshit crazy?”_

_Farlan rolled his eyes. “Seems there was one guy who was completely torn apart. Head crushed, blood everywhere, et cetera, et cetera. I dunno, Manning’s boys weren’t able to stick around. The MPs came a-sniffing afterwards or some shit.” He crooked his fingers. “You worried?”_

_Levi shrugged. “Nah, doesn’t sound like it’s be a problem. I’ll let Manning take care of it for now. Wait and see if anybody shows up. If they don’t, we won’t need to worry about making a move. For all we know, it could just be an isolated incident.”_

_“Might be trouble, having a powerhouse like that around,” Farlan propped his head up on his hand, elbow resting on the table. “But you’re the boss.” He shrugged, then glanced back at Levi’s chips. “Come on, buddy, you raised,” he said. “Hand ‘em over.”_

_Levi’s eyes flashed and his lip curled in a small smirk. He moved his arm, flipping his cards over. Farlan’s jaw dropped._

_Ace, King, Queen, Jack, 10._

_“No fucking way.” He stared wide-eyed at the cards as Levi leaned over, pulling Farlan’s chips towards him.”_

_“Thank you kindly,” Levi monotoned, eyes sparkling as he stood up. He glanced out the window, noting the candles that were blinking out throughout the city. “Imma go find Izzie,” he said, grabbing his cloak from the hook by the door. “Looks like you’re on dinner tonight.”_

_Farlan shook his head, utterly bemused as he began putting the cards back into the ragged old box. “I’ll never get how you do it,” he muttered with a small chuckle. “Fine, then!” he grabbed Levi’s bottle, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip, wrinkling his nose as the burn hit the back of his nose. “I’ll get you next time!” he called as th door slammed shut._

_“Doubt it!” Levi called back._

_Farlan chucked, swilling the beer around in the bottle. “Brat.”_

 

Levi’s arms shook as he held the blade up to Meyer’s throat. His eyes were wide as he stared down at the edge of the knife that dug into his throat. A line of blood ran down from the incision, staining his shirt.

            “Levi?” Hange raised a hand slowly, other hand resting on the handle of their blade. “Levi, just –”

            “No.”

            Hange paused and Mikasa’s hand drifted into her jacket for a handle. “What?”

            “You want me to hurt you,” Levi realized, ignoring them, still staring at Meyer. “You _want_ me to kill you.”

            “Who would –”

            “You want to die,” Levi said, pressing his blade deeper. Meyer made a small gurgling noise, but his eyes flashed. “You want me to put you down right here, so you don’t have to deal with the consequences later. You _want_ me to do this.”

            “Levi, put the knife down,” Hange said.

            Levi’s knife dug just a bit deeper, and another drop of red rolled down Meyer’s neck. “Too bad, shitbrain,” Levi growled. “I won’t kill you.” He stared down at his knife against Meyer’s throat, watching the blood seep into the collar of his shirt. “I’m not giving you the easy way out.” He stood, removing the knife from his neck.

            Meyer stared at him, his throat bearing a new, angry, red line, next to his Adam’s apple. “You –”

            “ _You_ ,” Levi said coolly, wiping his knife clean on Meyer’s shoulder. “Deserve to rot. In a stinking, filthy hole, under the guard of the very people you once treated like livestock, who’s comrades you sold like objects. You,” he added, kneeling. “Deserve to be chained up like those kids, and treated like an animal in a pen until the end of time.

            “You,” he leaned closer until they were almost nose-to-nose. “Deserve this.”

            He stood up, glaring down at him. Meyer’s eyes were on him, looking wary. Suddenly, without warning, Levi’s leg shot out, striking Meyer across the face with a loud, satisfying slap of leather on skin.

            Meyer shouted as he fell back (Armin gave a round of quiet applause, and Eren held up a sign reading ‘10’). “Somebody gag him,” he muttered.

            Jean tugged a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, and shoved it into Meyer’s mouth with rigour. Meyer gagged, and Jean sighed. “Revenge is sweet,” he muttered.

            “Mmph!” Meyer shouted against the gag as Mikasa took him from Hange, tossing him over her shoulder with ease. “Mmphl!” he glared at Levi. “Mm mmf!”

            Hange snorted, moving in to stand next to Levi. “Hey, asshole,” they said. “Is your name actually Oscar?”

            Meyer frowned, nodding slightly. “Damn,” Hange said. “I probably hate you just as much as your mother did, then.”

            “ _Oh!_ ” Eren held a fist up to his mouth. “Shots fired!”

            “ _Roasted!_ ” Jean declared.

            “You good?” Hange asked quietly as they left the building (Mikasa seemed to be enjoying herself as she jostled Meyer).

            “Why wouldn’t I be?” he muttered. They gave him a _look_. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. Yeah.” He nodded, swallowing. “I’m good.”

 

_Levi watched the clouds move across the sky above him, the light of the stars and moon shining weakly through the blurry strands of gray. He raised the bottle to his lips, hand shaky, and he cursed as a few drops spilled onto his chin._

_He wiped them away with the back of his hand, swearing. He glared at the bottle for a moment, glowering at the fancy label he could barely read, swirly letters moving over each other, and, with a shout of fury, pulled his arm back, hurling the bottle through the open air in front of him. He heard a faint_ crash _as the bottle smashed against the hard stone of the courtyard and sighed, putting his head in his hands. A few drops of alcohol had splashed onto his shoulders and the stone around him and he grit his teeth, shouting as he slammed his fist onto the battlement beside him._

 _He clenched his teeth, grabbing his hair and tugging, squeezing his eyes shut._ Shit. _Though the Titan’s blood had long since evaporated off of him, his heart was still pounding, fingers tingling._ Shit, shit _shit_. _His skin still itched with what he_ knew _he hadn’t been able to scrub off – Isabel’s blood, coating his fingers as he slid her eyes shut; Farlan’s blood, drenching him as he yanked him out of the Titan’s stomach; Flagon, Sairam, and all the other brats in their squad, their blood mixing with the mud, staining his knees as he knelt in the filth; Smith’s blood, running down his blade, down his handle, flowing over his hands as he held his sword back –_

So much blood. . .

 _“Shit!” he tumbled off the battlement, landing on the castle roof with a small_ thud _. He ignored the pain pounding the back of his skull as he stared into the starry sky._

How they’d loved the stars _._

_His head gave another, almighty throb, and he closed his eyes, biting his lip, keeping any noises from escaping, holding back the tears that threatened to fall._

Fall. . .

            _He covered his face with his hands, nails digging punishingly into his face, leaving red marks, gripping his skull as his head throbbed._

I can’t deal with this shit right now.

            _He opened his eyes again, staring dully at the full moon. “Not tonight,” he said quietly. “Whatever it is, I’m not dealing with it tonight._

_“Some other time._

_“For now. . ._

_“Just leave me alone.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAIN STORY IS DONE! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Epilogue will be up in a few days (Maybe even later today, depending on how much work/time I have)!


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which children get drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screeching intensifies*

“Darn it!” Sasha groaned. “I always miss the cool stuff!”

            “At least you’re not dead,” Jean said, leaning back against the couch’s armrest.

            “Unlike a bunch of shits,” Eren muttered, crossing his arms.

            Hange hummed, glancing down at the Military Police memo in their hand. “Looks like these guys have been active for a while,” they said. “Drugs, slaves, labour-for-rent. . .” they wrinkled their nose before balling it up and chucking it over their shoulder into the fire.

            “Do we need to go in for statements?” Mikasa asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

            Hange chuckled. “Nah, Levi’s footprint on Oscar Meyer’s face is enough.” They glanced at Levi, who sat at the table, resting his head on his hand, looking out the window, gaze unfocused.

            “Hey,” Armin said quietly, and everybody glanced at him. “Is Levi going to be okay? I mean –”

            “Levi’s tough,” Hange smiled. “He’s a strong guy. He’ll be fine.”

            “ _He_ can also hear you,” Levi said, and everybody jumped. Hange snickered into their palm. Levi stood up with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head. “If that’s done, then let’s get the fuck out of here already,” he grumbled. “Preferably _without_ anybody getting shot, this time?”

            “Oh, come on!” Sasha complained, and Connie snorted.

            “Say, Levi,” Hange said as they made their way to the door. “Don’t you think we’ve deserved some fun?” They wiggled their eyebrows as they leaned closer. “Come on, I know you wanna let loose! One free night, buddy!” They elbowed him playfully and he batted it away, wrinkling his nose. “We’ve just busted our asses and saved the military!  We have the right to wake up in a stranger’s bed with a pounding headache!”

            Levi peered over their shoulder to where the rest of the younger Scouts stood, trying (and failing) to look uninterested. “How old are you all, again?” he asked.

            “Fifteen,” Jean answered.

            Levi frowned for a moment, thinking, then shrugged. “Oh, what the hell,” he muttered. “That’s legal in Africa.”

            “Where?” Eren frowned.

            “I don’t fucking know,” Levi grumbled as they left the house. “I think a little black dog from a 30’s movie wrote a song about it, though.”

            Hange laughed as they made their way down the stairs. Levi wavered at the top of the steps, the key to the house in his hands. He turned around, looking back around the living room one last time, casting his gaze over the rickety furniture and shuttered windows, at the door leading to the small hallway and the bedrooms beyond. The steep stairs carved into the stone walls leading up to the attic rooms above. The couch, and it’s hard, lumpy cushions. The closed cupboards, picked clean.

            He closed the door gently behind him, listening to the lock click behind him for the last time. He knelt, tucking the key into a small crevice at the base of the wall and stood, giving the rough wood and rusted metal a little pat.

            “See ya,” he said as he turned, following the others down the stairs.

            “— fizziest thing I’ve ever tried!” Hange was saying enthusiastically when Levi caught up to them. “That’s gotta be the first thing you try! Ooh, or maybe a cocktail. . . Levi!” they said, noticing the shorter man walking by them. “What do you we should have them try first, a gin gin mule or a hanky panky?”

            Levi snorted as they headed to the Stairway. “Please,” he said as he and Hange flashed their Officer licenses at the guards, who nodded and let them past. “You’re too extravagant. Just get the brats a cosmopolitan or a sidecar or something. And check your wallet. _Then_ we’ll talk.”

            Hange whooped, punching the air. “All right!” they crowed. “Let’s go, kids! Drinks are on me tonight!”

            Levi rolled his eyes as they turned a corner, walking back into the sunlight. He bit back a hiss, turning his head away from the light, eyes that had adjusted back to the darkness way too quickly burning.

            When he was finally able to look back, Eren was blinking. “Wow,” he said. “That was a lot brighter than I’d expected.”

            Jean glanced over at him as they stepped back onto the busy streets, moving into the flow of pedestrians. “You all right, Captain?” he asked.

            Levi huffed. “Fine,” he said. “And make sure you brats don’t get too hammered, got it? I’m not cleaning up after you if you hurl all over yourself.”

            “What about Hange?” Armin asked as said Scout dragged them through the door of a bar.

            Levi held back a chuckle as they sat down, Hange waving their hand enthusiastically at a bartender. “Oh, yeah, they probably won’t remember their name by the time we’re ten minutes in. You’re all going to be carrying them back to Headquarters.”

            Connie laughed as he helped Sasha onto her stool and Eren grinned, grabbing the glass that had been set in front of him, clinking it with Hange, grinning manically.  Mikasa was already sipping her boulevardier, humming a bit as she nodded in approval, and Armin and Jean were both tasting their mojitos with obvious trepidation. Levi hid a smile behind the rim of his glass as he sipped his Bloody Mary.

            He had his memories back.

            He was under the sky.

            The sun was shining.

            He was fine.

 

“Hey, Levi?” Hange slurred, lying across the bar, their fifth glass (empty) rolling around on the bar next to them.

            “Hm?” Levi glanced at them over his fourth beer. “What?”

            “We –” they hiccupped. “We forgot the horses.”

            “Oh, _shit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ma gersh! It's over!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking around for so long! *sniffs* I'd like to thank my WiFi, my iTunes library, my hard drive, Microsoft word. . . *babbling intensifies*
> 
> Seriously, though, THANK YOU. I have no idea how this became my most popular fic. It was my first AOT one, and the first fic I ever put any real effort/plot into. I was pretty unsatisfied with the story as a whole in the end, but thank you, anyways <3
> 
> But wait, there's more! If you've read my comment replies (I'm not sure if it was on this fic or another), you'll know I've been working on another canonverse fic. That one will be up very, very soon, so stay tuned, and maybe check out some of my other fics while you're at it *insert shameless self plug*
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the long-ass speech.
> 
> Thank you, and see you later!

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write a page and a half about the commanding officers' abs? Because WHY NOT.
> 
> (Also ik that in the manga Levi has an eight-pack but Sasha's Sasha sooooooo)


End file.
